


How To Play (and why)

by coal15



Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, sub/dom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 63,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coal15/pseuds/coal15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She spent the first several months of their relationship talking herself into, then out of, telling him. A distracting cycle of nerves and frustration. They were so happy together, and having one unsatisfied fantasy wasn't the worst thing in the world . . . . " But Hook will go to any lengths to satisfy his Princess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How To Play (and why)

**Author's Note:**

> Amid all the smut, I tried to weave in and flesh out the emotional and psychological dynamics at play in a long term sub/Dom relationship, which is far more layered than just hurter/hurtie.

There were only two other men she'd ever told. It was the only "weird" fantasy she had. The first guy was willing to accommodate, but he wasn't very imaginative. She had to come up with most of their scenarios, which defeated the whole purpose. When she felt the urge to play this game, it was because she wanted to give up control. To be at her lover's mercy. And if she was being honest, a little bit to show off how much she could take.

_Even 'Fantasy Me' is competitive!_

Emma did appreciate the first guy's effort. At least he tried, and didn't judge her. Unlike the second guy. He prodded her for days about 'letting him in' on her fantasies so damn persistently, she assumed he was ready to hear anything. So she told him.

First, he insisted she must have self-loathing issues, or that she'd suffered physical abuse as a kid. (Untrue. Even her less than ideal foster homes were never abusive.). Then he told her she should seek help regardless, because no one should get off on that kind of "sick stuff." He was the last guy she ever told. She just took it for granted she'd never find a guy she could trust enough. She'd always keep this part of herself in a box.

Until Hook.

She spent the first several months of their relationship talking herself into, then out of, telling him. A distracting cycle of nerves and frustration. They were so happy together, and having one unsatisfied fantasy wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Why risk it?

_True Love is worth more than some stupid sex kink, right?!_

The problem was, at the end of the day not telling him made her feel more and more like she wasn't all in with their relationship, which with anyone else would have felt as natural to her as breathing. Emma Swan hides. It's what she does. But not with him. With Hook the opposite was true. Holding back from him didn't just feel unnatural, it took actual effort. The more she tried to get over it, the more it consumed her thoughts.

When it got so bad she started to suck at . . . well . . . _life,_ she forced herself to work up the courage to tell him. Still, when she did tell him, she didn't utter a word of any expectation for him to satisfy the fantasy. Hell no! In fact, she heavily implied it was only a part of her fantasy world, and she could care less whether or not something ever happened in real life.

He thanked her for telling him, swore he saw her no differently, and the two went on as usual.

A few days later when she came home from work to find the 'how to play' manuals of various board games scattered throughout the apartment, she was baffled. Until she got to the bedroom. On the bed was what looked like a box of chocolates that someone had painted over in black with the label 'Emma Swan's Game' written in white. When she opened the box there was a pen sitting atop a folded up piece of paper titled 'How To Play.' The rest of the page was blank. Underneath that was a small handwritten note:

_I can not be a proper playmate if I don't know the rules. Teach me, and the game is on!_

_~Yours in all things,_

_Killian Jones or Captain Hook, as the Lady wishes._

He proved to be a ridiculously quick study.

They chose 'lemon' for their Safeword.

Emma was certainshe'd found her perfect playmate when they got to the point that all she had to do if the urge to submit struck was give him a certain look. They made a new rule at that point. She wasn't allowed to outright ask him for it, and she could only prompt him twice in one day. If he failed to catch the signal both times? Better luck tomorrow. Nine times out of ten he got it. Sometimes he'd pretend to miss a cue, then BAM! An hour or three later he'd start the game. No warning.

He first revealed that exciting new trick one idilic sunny morning while they were washing the dishes from breakfast. She'd already used up her two attempts with the look. (she usually put a few hours' space between the first and second attempt, but that morning she really _really_ wanted to play). She put away the last dish dreading all the distracted, un-satisfied hours ahead of her when suddenly Hook stepped in front of her, pushed her to her knees, and got his cock out in front of her face.

"Suck. And remember your manners. You should be . . . ?"

"Grateful for what I'm given," she said with a shudder, thrilled by the sudden turn of events.

He pushed himself into her mouth and let out a long groan as she went right to work.

The task received all of her focus.

Bills?

Sheriff duties?

Savior duties?

_Life stress in general?_

They all vanished as though they never existed.

She needed to suck him correctly, that was important. The usual rule (applying only to the game, not their sex life in general) was that if she did it wrong he not only wouldn't fuck her for the rest of the day, he'd make her beg for permission to even touch herself. A reward/punishment structure was important for the game, otherwise it wasn't as fun. Hook was dubious on this point in the beginning, but he soon realized it was oddly true. Once he got his head 'round that fact, he put a lot more thought into it when he doled out a punishment.

He observed Emma carefully as she worked.

_She really is a diligent woman._

He knew how deep she could take it without choking, so when he said "all the way," that's what he meant. Her maximum. (If she ever took less, she'd still have to finish him, but that was the end of the game, and no game days for the rest of the week.) "Tip," meant suck the tip, "play," meant more stroking, "talk" meant dirty talk, and "take it," meant he was about to grab her head and either start thrusting into her throat, or push her mouth onto him, controlling her pace (in which case any invocation of 'lemon' was to be spelled out in sign language. Yes, his woman had learned how to spell a word in sign language specifically to broaden the scope of their play). If he gave no specific instruction, she was left to her own devices.

 _How can such a romantic sap be this good at something so fuck-tastically dirty?_ She marveled as she swallowed him.

She said thank you. He thanked her back, and ordered her not to look at or touch him until he gave permission. A few hours later, while she was folding laundry, he blindfolded her from behind and told her if she could find her way to the bedroom and retrieve their handcuffs from the drawer in under a minute, he'd allow her to look at and touch him again.

Eight months later he was even more proficient at finding the perfect edge between pleasure and torture. That edge was the sweet spot. The place Emma loved best. His first "perfect game," so to speak, started off rather interestingly.

They got out of bed and he remarked teasingly on how cold her feet had been the previous night. All his squirming away to avoid them. When he got out of the shower, towel around his waist, she was naked, and selecting her clothes as slow as humanly possible without actually seeming drugged. One item at a time. She'd set the item on the bed, then go back for the next item.

Strange behavior, but not transparently asking for anything. Within the parameters of their rules.

Hook gave it only a fleeting thought until he opened the closet door to fetch a shirt. Their 'toy box' was unlocked.

He rifled through it, selected the riding crop, and turned it about in his hand as he approached his princess. He ran it along the side of her face, stopping under her chin to tilt her head up. "Did you unlock our box?"

She nodded.

"And just exactly _why?"_

"I disturbed your sleep last night," she said, matter of factly. "You gonna let me get away with that?"

"Hm." He mulled things over for a moment before tucking the crop into the waistline of his towel. "I'll consider it." He sidestepped her and headed back to the closet. (he hadn't officially moved in, but he stayed over often enough to merit a portion of the closet and drawers). "Move to the center of the room, get on your hands and knees, and face the door," he ordered casually without looking at her.

The next time he stood in front of her, he was wearing black jeans and a dark blue v-neck t-shirt, untucked. He walked around her, tracing the riding crop along the outline of her body, dipping between her thighs just the slightest bit whenever he passed that territory.

Emma shivered, and her breathing shallowed as she waited for the first strike.

"Still thinking it over," he said, then walked briskly out of the room.

She remained in position, and listened to Killian make coffee and toast. When he was finished he strolled back into the room, still holding the crop. "Gotta brush my teeth." He passed by her without so much as a glance.

This was another thing Emma loved about the game. Something not at all inherently sexy (brushing teeth) could make her twitch with anticipation. (The faucet stopped running! What now!?)

He stepped out of the bathroom and approached her in the same breezy manner as before, only this time she got a sudden, solid _slap_ on her ass.

Her body jerked. She let out a gasp.

"You've done well." he said, his voice tinged with dark promise. "Such a patient lass." He walked around in front of her and lifted her chin with the riding crop. "You really did cost me a lot of sleep last night, you know."

Emma tried not to smile as she replied, "I'm sorry."

As she gazed up at him, she saw what she'd always longed for. A partner who wasn't just going through the motions. Hook understood why she loved the game, and how much it demanded of him as well. Yes, she had to submit, but he also had to be creative if he wanted to please her. And Hook never wavered in his desire to please her, even if it meant venturing into completely new territory. Whether it was an endless flow of rose petals and sonnets that did it, or brutal cock and strict commands, if she needed, he would provide.

 _Anything I want,_ Emma thought as she waited for another strike of the crop.

He considered the sight of her kneeling there for a long time, running the crop over her shoulder blades and around her face. She leaned into the touch when it caressed her cheek, as though it were an extension of Hook's own warm, loving hand.

He sunk to his knees in front of her, and ran the crop between her breasts as he spoke. "How long do you think you could take it Swan?" He moved his mouth close to hers as the crop moved lower down her midsection. "How many consecutive minutes?"

She considered the question as he moved the crop low enough to touch her clit. He then turned it on edge to dip in and brush it through her thoroughly wet center. She began to roll her hips for whatever friction she could get, but Hook wouldn't allow it.

"Hold still!"

Her hips froze.

"Answer my question."

His mouth was achingly close. She couldn't stop staring.

"Four, maybe?"

He pressed the crop against her harder and moved his lips close enough for her to taste if she dared flick her tongue out. "Maybes are not acceptable." He murmured.

"Four!" Emma promised, "four minutes!"

He grabbed her arms and pulled her to her knees, kissing her with the same command he carried in his voice, then tossed her back on her haunches. "You'll take seven," he declared.

Emma's pulse quickened. She wasn't used to such an ambitious challenge.

Hook again ran the crop all through her arousal, and brought it to his mouth. He took in the whole tip, sucking and licking as he withdrew. "Mmmm," he moaned, eyes fluttering shut. When they opened again, he grabbed her by the hair. "Fair warning, if you invoke 'lemon,'" he enunciated the word very clearly, "I'll keep you wet all day, but you'll get no cock inside you." He smirked. "Unless you're desperate enough to go down to the pub and pick up some talentless stranger to service you."

Emma shook her head. "No," she breathed. "You or no one."

He released her hair and stood up. "Get on the bed, all fours, at the edge."

She scrambled into position, and he brought the crop down on her right away. A stinging slap on her ass. Then another, then another. Occasionally he ran the crop up and down her body, or softened his force for a few seconds, but mostly he punished her ass and back just the way she'd imagined when she concocted her plan to prompt him. Emma gasped and cried his name as he wielded the crop, sometimes bitting her lips and gritting her teeth to ride out the fire and resist her rational mind's want for relief.

 _Lemon._ That's all she had to say was _lemon,_ and she had absolute trust that he would stop the game instantly. Hook never failed to respect the Safeword, and by extension, her. So it was a question of 'pain of the whip for seven minutes'vs. 'no cock all day,' and she was too slick with arousal to even _consider_ the 'no cock' option.

He was clearly impressed when she made it to seven minutes. "I knew the first time we met you were a tough one," he cooed as he gently pet her back, sweeping his hook over the evidence of his authority. "But I had no idea, did I?"

"No one tougher, pirate," she said with a flirty smile.

He guided her into the bathroom and they took a shower together, alternating between cool and warm water on her whip marked back. Hook gently rubbed her clit and praised her peerless fortitude the whole time. Emma sighed happily as his skilled ministrations, and the water, soothed her.

When they got out of the shower, she stroked his cock and asked if she could have it, since she did so well with the riding crop.

He swatted her hand away and said he'd have to think about it.

He'd done this to her a few times before. Always tantalizing.

She accepted the wait and went to pour herself a cup of coffee. As the minutes ticked by she found herself thinking about how close she'd come to never having this. A real playmate in her life. Especially not one who was in it for the long haul. Who she'd finally accepted would never leave her, come hell or high water.

She found out two hours later when he blocked her path down the hallway that he _was_ willing to give her cock, but she could only use her mouth. No stroking. No pumping. No holding in place. And he would offer no assistance.

She said nothing in response. Just dropped to her knees, licked and kissed over his length until he was fully hard, then took him in her mouth. Keeping him in her mouth without the help of her hands was more of a challenge than she'd expected (especially when she bobbed upward, or tried to service the head). A few times she had to chase him down. Eventually she decided to scrap all her usual techniques, and go with a basic up-and-down, take-it-as-deep-as-I-can approach. Not fancy, but it spared her the trial of a runaway cock. Only one real challenge remained. Endurance. She wouldn't be able to stroke him when her jaw wanted a break, so how long could she go before leaving him unattended? She worried over the question as the taste of pre-cum filled her mouth. She refused to let go. After a while she resorted to daring herself to ignore the ache in her jaw for just one. More. Minute. It worked for several minutes.

Suddenly, Hook yanked back on her hair, pulling her off of him. He sighed, delighted. "I've never met a woman who could take a cock so long without a break, Swan. You must have sucked a thousand dicks before me."

"No."

"Oh," he shouted, yanking her hair back further, "so you just naturally behave like a whore then?"

Outside the game such a comment would make her rage, but within the game it sent arousal dripping down her thighs.

"I just want to make you cum," she insisted. "I love making you cum."

Hook stared down at her, biting back an amused grin. He mustn't let himself lighten the mood. At this point anything short of stone cold supremacy would break up their rhythm. The partnership of it all was still sometimes bizarre to him. To the outside observer it would, of course, look as though he was beholden to nothing but his own cock, and Emma was assigned the utterly thankless burden of servicing him. No one would guess it was _Emma_ who'd allowed _him_ to take on the starring role in her long unrealized fantasy.

He let go of her hair and brushed his fingers over her glistening lips. "You love to make me cum?"

Emma nodded.

His stared down at her with menacing lust. "Then let's try something new, shall we?"

 _Something new!_ She felt the muscles inside her quiver with excitement as she wondered, _can I take it, or will this be my lemon?_

"Tilt your head back and keep your mouth open."

Emma did as she was told.

Hook stepped forward and held his cock directly over her mouth, angling toward it, but not entering. He began to stroke himself, slowly at first.

"Don't move when I cum, Swan," he ordered. "Whatever doesn't go in your mouth, you'll lick off your fingers." he paused, dropping his voice to its dirtiest cadence, "and I'll film it."

Nope, her pulse quickened and her body flushed with heat. _No lemon here._

She loved watching him become more and more willing, every time they played, to wield the power of her submission. To push her. Own her. She watched intently as his face began to clench and his stroke quickened.

She squirmed, preparing herself.

"Good lass," he mused as cum shot in her mouth, just beneath her mouth, and one shot landing mostly on her cheek. He pet her hair lovingly. "Your mouth has so many fine uses."

She swallowed, smiled, and placed her hands in her lap. "How do I look?"

 _"Filthy,"_ he purred as he pulled the phone from his back pocket. "Filthy and fantastic. Exactly as I imagined. Better. You should be proud."

She was. She licked her lips and waited for him to begin filming. On his cue, she ran two fingers along the under side of her mouth and slowly lapped up every trace of him with a satisfied sigh. Then she went to wipe off her cheek.

"Oooooh," Hook sighed, crouching down to get a better view.

"Did I get it all?" she asked hopefully.

"You tell me," Hook replied. "I gave you that cum. Taking care of it is your job." She searched around her face for more while he went on. "I know it's easier when I cum inside you princess, but sometimes you do have to _work."_

She found one last drop, and as soon as she had it swallowed Hook dropped the phone and crushed her against his mouth, thrusting his tongue against hers as if demanding it participate. She panted and gasped as it went on. He'd angle her one way, then another, then another. It seemed endless.

Finally, he pulled back with a lopsided smile. "It's always interesting to taste myself on you. Never thought to do such a thing with anyone else."

"What's it like?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"It's better when I'm going down on you," he said. "Then I taste you, too. Us together." His eyes darkened. "That's a taste I could drink down every day." As he spoke, he unzipped her pants, slid his hand in, and reached down until his middle finger found her clit. "You must really love watching me cum," he said as he pushed in further. "You're halfway there already." He drew away from her and stood with a satisfied expression. "Since you did such a good job . . ." he took a deep breath and chewed the corner of his lower lip.

Emma tried not to betray impatience as she waited for him to continue his thought.

"I'll allow you areward."

Her eyes lit up.

"And you may choose it."

 _I must have been spectacular!_ She congratulated herself, then focused on deciding what to ask for.

"Stand up and strip while you think."

While she followed the command, he fetched the kitchen timer from next to the stove. When she was fully undressed he got down on his knees in front of her, and cranked the timer to five minutes. "You have five minutes to make a decision. In the meantime," he tapped his hook against her leg. She spread out a little, as if to let a small-ish dog run between her legs, "I'll be busy down here. You are to remain standing, you may not hold onto either wall for support. I'm sure you know what happens of you fall to the floor."

"I lose my choice," Emma panted.

"I'll give you a bit of back support with my hook arm, but that's it. Understand?"

She nodded.

He released the timer, and the soft sound of its tickticktick filled the hall.

He smiled and sunk two fingers into her core, slowly moving them in and out as he snaked his hook arm around her thigh, slid it over her ass up to her lower back, and held her in place. When he knew he had her steadied enough, he began teasing her clit with his tongue.

Emma arched into the contact with a long moan. She'd been with a few men who knew their way around down there, but damn. Her breath hitched each time his tongue delivered a flick. Meanwhile his fingers scissored and curled inside her. Actually, his talents in this area started off at wow. It was their mutual desire to constantly challenge themselves that took him from wow to damn. It dawned on her as she stood there, legs shaking as she tried to keep her knees from giving way, that he'd officially left damn in the dust at some point, and moved on to something beyond words. She hoped her cock sucking skills had followed a similar trajectory.

He withdrew his fingers and set them to work on her clit while he pushed one thigh up on his shoulder and tilted her back just a tad to give himself more territory. He was careful to keep his hook arm firm around her.

Emma scraped her fingers through his hair starting at the nape of his neck, lost in blind pleasure. He ran his tongue over every inch of her center while fingers worked diligently at her clit. She leaned back further, grasping at him, and tried to correctly balance her weight against the one arm. Quite a struggle when one's self control is hanging on by a thread.

Hook went on with voracious enthusiasm.

Emma was just on the precipice of orgasm when a horrible realization hit her.

_I haven't chosen what I want!_

She made a decision and came just as the timer buzzed. Hook let go of her instantly, and she tumbled to the floor. "That was perfect," she praised in a throaty rasp.

He wiped the lower half of his face on his sleeve. "Must've been," he said with a salacious chuckle. "You're wet enough to drown a man, Swan. I do hope you managed to make a decision."

"The cuffs and the tree."

There was a particular tree in the forest they'd found completely by accident, far away from any path. They sometimes liked to do that. Just wander through wild, untrodden forest. The tree trunk was the perfect width for Emma to get her arms around close enough for handcuffs to close the remaining distance. And it was a maple tree, so the bark wasn't rough. They weren't actually playing a game at the time, and had an obligation to be somewhere, so they'd made a mental note to work it into play at some point. The two times they'd played since then it was either raining, or howling wind, so that particular adventure wasn't an option.

Hook's eyes lit up. "Excellent choice, I'd almost forgotten that damn tree! Stay here. I'll select what you're to wear."

Emma pushed herself into sitting position and sat cross legged, waiting patiently.

She didn't have to wait long. Hook returned with a selection that looked nothing like the kind of thing Emma wore anymore. Stuff that had moved from place to place with her only because she kept forgetting to donate them someplace. Back when she was broke, any clothes she could afford would do. In this case, a summery just-below-the-knee white skirt adorned with a pattern of little yellow flowers, a pastel purple button down shirt with quarter length sleeves, strapless black bra, and no panties.

Emma smiled. "Odd selection," she noted as she pulled the skirt over her hips.

Hook leaned against the wall with a likewise amiable expression and crossed his arms. "That's rather the point, love. I mean to fuck you ten kinds of senseless, and the thought of doing it while you're dressed for bloody _church_ amuses me. I was going to include a scarf of some kind to tie over your mouth in case you got too loud, but then you'd have no way to give me the Safeword."

Emma clasped the bra and quickly pulled on and buttoned the shirt. "Bet you a thousand dollars I won't need it anyhow."

He smirked. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

Hook was still getting the feel of driving, so Emma took the wheel. He swept her hair back and stroked his hook along the side of her neck, gazing at her as though they were sitting in a classy, violins-and-candelight restaurant. The comparison between appearance and reality got him half hard, but he kept it under control. They had a hike ahead of them, and trekking while hard was one hell of a chore. He'd spent a good bit of their time in Neverland feeling horribly awkward, and struggling to talk himself down.

Before they got out of the car Hook ordered her to pleasure herself until he counted to sixty. He alternated between counting fast and counting slow. When he reached sixty, she withdrew without hesitation or pouting (though on the inside she was _dying_ to continue). She started to raise her fingers to her mouth to lick them clean as she'd done earlier with the cum, but Hook reached out and grabbed her wrist, squeezing tightly.

"NO!"

She side-eyed him, curious.

"Wipe them on your _lovely_ skirt."

Once they were far enough from the road not to be visible, Hook cuffed her hands in front of her and used them to drag her along. He didn't walk too fast, and he did slow down for larger impediments and slippery places (decaying leaves may as well be oil slicks sometimes), but he made sure the walk was work.

Once their tree was in view, he allowed himself to get fully hard. "There it is, my princess," he purred.

She tried to walk past him toward it, but he grabbed her arms from behind and held her flush against him. "Oh no," he whispered directly in her ear. "One step at a time." They continued forward. "You can unbutton your shirt if you care to."

Of course she did.

Thank God I've got such discipline, he thought as they wandered forward. The sight of Emma's naked flesh and black bra was torture. He wanted nothing more than to take the remaining distance at a dead run. But he couldn't let his Lady down in the grand scheme. _Always challenge,_ he reminded himself every painful step of the way. _Always the challenge._

"Be ready when we get there, Swan," he rasped, grabbing her by the hip and grinding his hardness against her. "Because I mean to take you without pause."

He felt her whole body quake against his as he walked them toward her impending fuck.

When they did reach the tree, he hurled her against and cuffed her to it in what seemed like less than a second. Then he walked back 'round, unzipping as he went, yanked her legs up over his hips, and thrust forward with all the force he could muster. He pushed her skirt out of the way as he went, and true to his word, showed no mercy.

Loathe to leave the whole job to his cock, he grabbed the bra, tore it down to her midsection with a guttural hiss, and went about marking the territory of her perfect, pale breasts. More visible evidence of his ownership. She always wore the marks he gave her proudly, like trophies-undisplayed trophies, but still. She saw each one as proof of his wild desire to be her greatest fantasy.

His tireless efforts elicited a thousand cries and bursts of foul language (mostly pertaining to his cock, and how well he wielded it). Her shouted sounds coupled with the intoxicating sensation of her walls clutching him tight as they rippled with a ceaseless tide of orgasm drove him to near-madness. His cock _begged_ for release, but he made himself a promise as he thrust with ruthless commitment.

_I will not cum until I'm in utter agony!_

He forced himself not to give in several times before it finally became too much. He drove his hook into the tree trunk, dug his nails into the underside of her thigh, and lost his mind inside her, cumming with enough force to shame a thunderstorm. He collapsed to the ground immediately afterward while Emma sagged forward, her cuffs the only thing keeping her upright. Both were drenched in sweat, and panting as though they'd raced one another across the continent.

A few minutes later, Emma giggled.

"What's on your mind?" Hook asked as he hoisted himself to his feet.

She gave him a smug smile. "I didn't say lemon."

"Mmmm." Hook nuzzled her nose and peppered her face with sweet little kisses in the manner of dewy, saccharine romance. "Oh, love," he whispered tenderly, "we'll be at it again in a bit."

"WHAT?" Emma's eyes bulged. "How can you possibly-"

"I'll need an hour or so to recover obviously, but we are going again." he paused, and dropped his voice. "Only next time, I'm cuffing you to that tree." He pointed his hook toward a tree with a very slender trunk. "And you'll be on all fours."

Emma swallowed. "Do I get un cuffed in the meantime?"

"Oh, why not," Hook sighed with a shrug.

His let her free, and soothed her engorged core with the occasional light licking.

An hour later she was indeed cuffed to the base of the other tree, situated to the side of the trunk and propped on her elbows.

 _Wow, he is really going for it today!_ When he first informed her there would be more, she half assumed he'd change his mind. _You should know better, Emma, the man lives to outdo himself._  
He leaned over her body as he pushed the skirt up over her ass and whispered, "we're going to have lunch at Granny's when we're through here, by the way. You will sit calmly in that adorable diner." He sat back and ran his hook from the crook of her knee over the rise of her ass while three fingers explored inside her. "You will eat what you order." He positioned himself, cock hovering at her entrance. "And you will think about every _filthy_ thing we've done today."

Emma's breath grew shaky, as did her body. "You're so good to me," she whispered.

Hook swelled with pride as he slid the head of his cock into her. "Anything for you my beautiful, _un-breakable_ toy." He paused just long enough to make her squirm before he grabbed her hips and surrounded himself in her welcoming heat.

"Aaaaahhhhhh," Emma let out a long, high pitched, warbling moan and clawed at the ground beneath her. "How are-ah! How are y-you real?!" Her head dropped onto her forearm, and with every incredible thrust, her fuck-thrashed hair picked up more and more forest debris. "How! Are! Y-oh, God! Howareyoureal?"

Hook only growled in response. It was all he could manage. Honestly, he didn't know where it came from. He'd never been this man. Always thought of himself as a scoundrel, of course. A man with a certain _edge,_ yes. But when he first decided to perform as Emma's fantasy owner he never imagined himself taking it so far. It shocked him that he was even capable (not just of doing it, but of enjoying the hell out of it). It was as though Emma's desire had unlocked something primal in him. Something that would be downright ugly, even evil, were it not their mutual playground.

As with their first go, he did not allow himself to cum until he felt like breaking every bone in his body would be the lesser agony.

"Emma! Emma! Emma!" He grunt/whine/chanted as he surged into her those final few times, determined not to relent until there was no choice.

She felt him swell and burst inside her with the kind of impact that levels cities, and sends bridges crumbling to the sea. When it was completely over he fell down by her side, sated and destroyed, and used the last of his strength to un-cuff her. They laid there in spoon formation for quite a while before he rose to his feet. Emma pulled herself up with his assistance, and they gazed at one another for a long, sweet moment.

As he gazed, Hook pulled up Emma's skirt to run a gentle hand over his soaked, hard earned plunder. He kissed her just as gently, his tongue running over hers. She responded in kind. When they separated, he helped her smooth down her hair and pick out debris.

"Do you want me in the cuffs for the walk back to the car?"

"No," he said as they began to mosey, neither in a state to walk fast. "I did fuck you ten kinds of senseless and you took every second without the Safeword. I'll give you a break." He helped her over a large fallen log.

It took them a while to reach the car, and Emma hissed when she sat down, her previously whipped back angered by the tree trunk. She was grateful her clothes were light and loose. She wondered of that had been part of Hook's wardrobe selection criteria.

It only took fifteen minutes to reach Granny's.

Emma and Hook sat in their booth and smiled knowingly at one another. It did feel incredibly erotic to be sitting in an adorable diner looking wholesome as hell while her sex throbbed between her legs, so recently fucked to the breaking point.

 _Clever man,_ she thought. _Our bodies have tapped out, but the game keeps going._

Ruby strolled over and asked if they wanted anything to drink besides water.

"I'll have an iced tea," Emma chirped happily.

Hook stuck with water.

The iced tea arrived with a wedge of lemon on the side. They both struggled not to laugh.

"Hey, _sweetie pie,"_ she said in a facetious tone.

He replied in kind. "Yes, my _precious one?"_

She picked up the lemon wedge and waved it in his general direction. "Do you want this? I don't need it at all."


	2. Hook Wants To Try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian gets curious about submission. I *may have* out smuttier myself here.

He didn't want her to think he was unsatisfied, or bored with the game. But for weeks he'd been wondering what it would be like to give Emma _his_ absolute submission. What might she do to him? How creative could she be? Would she get off on someone else's obedience, or have no interest? Was he capable of total obedience? He certainly didn't think of himself as the type, which somehow only intensified his curiosity. Every time she rose to whatever challenge he'd leveled at her, he wondered if he could do the same. .

_I've survived many a fight. Rushed headlong into dangerous adventures. But what would I suffer at Swan's command? Could I take it?_

He knew he _had to_ ask her about switching roles at some point during one specific game. He made Emma wear what they'd come to call her "church whore" outfit (the sweet flowery skirt and button down top), and kept her wrists bound and mouth taped for hours, un-taping her mouth periodically to suck his cock. He checked her clit several times throughout the day, and almost every time it was slick as hell.

_She really does get off in this stuff. How?_

Since she'd never expressed any interest in them changing roles, it took him weeks to work up the nerve. 

She was out picking up Henry from school and dropping him off at Regina's, He paced, and paced, and wracked his brain, trying to think of a way to get the conversation rolling. He was starting lose his nerve when the answer dawned on him.

_No talk!_

He dashed to the bedroom, wrote 'PROPERTY OF EMMA SWAN' on one of his white t shirts, and put it on. Then he went to their toy box, selected the riding crop, and knelt down in the bedroom doorway. He held the crop on his teeth like a dog with a bone, and waited. The gesture would have been far too blatant to keep with their rules for _her,_ but since this was his first time broaching the subject of her owning of _him,_ he figured the rules were a blank slate.

 _She must have lingered to chat with Regina,_ he thought when his wait reached the ten minute mark. He was tempted to get up for a minute to shake his legs out, but decided against it. _If Emma does want to do this, kneeling for a long time will be the least of my trials._ The thought sent an exited chill down his spine. It surprised him. His wait was going on fifteen minutes when he heard the key in the door. He squared his shoulders. His cock twitched as he heard her padding through the apartment.

_Front hall . . . living room . . . just a few more feet until . . ._

"Killian," she called out, "are you he-" she stood at the other end of the hallway, gaping at him.  
His breath hitched, but he said nothing. She dropped her purse and carefully set down her armload of papers before slowly approaching him.

"Huh." She put her hands on her hips. "This is interesting." She took the crop from his mouth and read his shirt. "Property of Emma Swan." She stared silently, blank faced, for a long time.

 _What is that look?_ Killian wondered. _Disapproval? Annoyance? Is she thinking it ov-_

The riding crop struck his cheek so hard he barely bit back a pained yelp.

"You're in my way!" She barked. "Move!"

He started to hoist himself up, the thrill of success rushing straight to his cock, but she pressed the crop against his chest. "Did I say stand? No. I said _move!"_

He scooted out of the doorway, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground. He found it interesting that she'd not only accepted his offer so quickly, but that she wasn't merely imitating his style of supremacy. Her tactics were her own.

She walked over to closet, kicked her shoes off next to the row of other pairs, and turned to face him. "Come undress me."

Ask, he reminded himself.

"Shall I walk over or crawl?"

Emma smiled. "You're learning. Walk."

"What shall I remove first?" he asked as he crossed the room.

Her smile grew wider as she ran the crop down his chest. "Learning _fast._ Just for that I'll let you go down on me for exactly two and a half minutes after you take my clothes off." The element of specific timing had recently come into their gameplay.

"Thank you, Emma," he said, genuinely pleased.

"Shirts first." She raised her arms over her head and he removed fist the red shirt, and the white one under it. "Belt. Pants-and do not touch my underwear. Not one little brush, not even with the hook, or I won't let you lick my clit at all until tomorrow." She squeezed him through his pants. "And that would suck for you. I know how much you love the way I taste."

His cock _throbbed_ when she took her hand away from him. He spent a few moments working out how to get her pants unzipped without risking contact with her underwear. It was a tad tricky, but he managed it. Underwear was last.

"Get the timer, set it, and get to work," she said as she laid down near the foot of the bed, legs spread wide and feet propped at the edge of the mattress. She set the crop down next to her. A few seconds later she was bucking against his obedient mouth.

 _She's liking this role!_ he thought as he licked diligently. She was every bit as wet as she got when he owned her. He reared back on his haunches the instant the timer went off. By then the confines of his jeans had become painful. 

"May I please take off my jeans?" he asked with no attempt to hide his desperation. 

She sat up, and ran the crop along the outline of his face. "I'll start you out easy. Take off your shirt and if you survive three minutes of the crop and I'll let you unzip."

This was the part he was most nervous about. A strike here and there was one thing, but it always left angry marks on Emma for days when he went at her for minutes at a time.

 _Dangerous adventures,_ he reminded himself as he traded places with Emma. _You've survived hundreds of them._

She trailed the crop lazily up the back of his still-clothed thigh, over his ass, and traced little circles around his back. It felt almost relaxing.

 _Snap!_ This time he did cry out. 

It was unrelenting. Strike after strike without pause even when she switched hands or moved around for a different angle. He couldn't fathom how she took even more than three minutes without complaint.

 _Lemon!_ He screamed at himself. _Lemon! Just bloody say lemon, you're not ready for this!_ The word came to the tip of his tongue several times, but each time he forced himself to think of the reward. She'd let him get his cock out of its godawful prison. And still he barely made it to the end. The buzz of the timer was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard (next to the stunning racket of Emma cumming like a wild thing). He collapsed to the bed panting and sweating.

"Amateur." She paused. "Okay, get it out."

He scrambled off the bed, undid his zipper, and yanked his pants down frantically, only to be shocked when the crop struck his face and neck in three sharp blows.

"What the hell?!?" he yelled before he could stop himself, immediately bracing himself for another strike as punishment.

Instead she shoved him back down on the bed. "First of all," she pushed a mat of hair away from her forehead, "no back talk. Second, I said you could _unzip._ Not take off the pants.

He made a warbling noise as he pulled the pants back over his thighs.

_At least she didn't make you zip up again, mate._

She took in the site of him, seeming to contemplate her options. "Don't get off the bed," she said abruptly, and left the room.

Killian could not for the life of him figure out why this not only _wasn't_ killing his hard-on, but making it pulse with the urge to find out what came next. He heard her rifling through her purse. She returned with her phone in hand, entering their security code as she approached him.

They had a special vid file labeled "favorites." The ones Killian most liked to watch. Their greatest hits, so to speak. 

"See these," she purred as she held the screen in front of him. 

He stared unblinking at the vid of he and Emma. He was wearing something from his pirate days, she was in nothing but high heels, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. He bent her over a chair in the living room and fucked her until her hair was completely unraveled. 

She turned it off before the next vid could play. "There are over thirty vids in this file." She tossed the phone carelessly onto a pillow. "I'm going to go for a nice _ride,_ Killian," she explained, stroking his cock. "Shhhh," she cautioned when he moaned. "A nice ride. And if you say a single word, or make a sound louder than a fucking _whisper?"_ She leaned down close to his ear. "I'll delete the whole file."

_Can I trade for the crop?! Please, the crop!_

She chuckled at his obvious panic as she brought her hands around his neck and settled over him in a teasing straddle, her hips already slowly rocking. "You can touch me anywhere," she continued as she positioned herself to take him in. "But you can't change our position."

Killian's whole face clenched and he threw back his head in a silent scream when she lowered herself onto him. Emma, on the other hand? She was a on obscene opera. Scaling through every octave as she rode him. 

"Oh!ah-fuck, _fuck!"_

Her depths rippled and tightened around his length and (considerable) girth. Muscles released and tightened, released and tightened. He grasped at her back and hips, head thrashing every which way as he struggled to remain mute. To stop himself from shouting her name at the top of his lungs, or curse her incredible cruelty.

 _Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! Oh God, you're perfect!_ His throat ran dry from pained gasping and panting.

Emma grabbed his hair and forced his head forward, meeting him in a brutal kiss that ended when she bit down on his shoulder. 

He hissed, marveling at the game. The way a jolt of such pain could make his cock swell against her walls even more. 

"I felt that," she breathed. "I love that cock, I get so fucking tight for you, Killian!" she gripped his tensed biceps, arched her back, and spread her legs wider, moving one hand behind her to grip his leg.

His grabbed her waist as she _thrust_ herself against him, taking him in deeper. The muscles inside her quivered with such force Killian thought he might lose his mind. Instead he gasped and mewled, ground his teeth, bit the side of his tongue. Whatever it took to abide the rules. 

She held his shoulders in a vice grip and leaned back even further. "Make me cum!" She commanded. "Right now! Right-ah! Right now!" She shoved him down on the bed. "Right now, I need it, I need it!"

His hook clawed at her waist as his hand dove for her clit. He tried to brace himself for what was about to happen to his cock, and rallied every ounce of strength in his body to resist crying out loud enough to be heard throughout all the realms in existence. He rubbed her clit with rolling pressure, a circular lift and press. He knew she loved that move. 

It didn't happen gradually. It slammed into her body and went straight to his cock. Unimaginable sounds spilled out if her while Killian restrained himself to a helpless, ragged gasp as he came. He felt _amazing_ despite all the desperate cries clawing at his throat, yearning for release. 

When it was over she leaned down and ran her tongue up his chest, along the line of his throat, and enjoyed a moment of affectionate nibbling at his earlobe before whispering in his ear. "You can talk now."

"What the fucking hell was that?" he cried, raking his hands though sweat-drenched hair. "That was amazing!"

Emma chuckled and peppered his chest with kisses.

Killian was dizzy with relief. "I can't believe I made it," he shook his head. "I just can't believe it."

"What gave you the idea to switch things up?" Emma asked as they shimmied the rest of the way up the bed.

He thought about the question for a moment. "Well . . . I always enjoy what we do while we're playing but then afterwards . . . sometimes I look at everything I did to your body, and it seemed bloody impossible that you could've gotten off on it," he shrugged. "I wanted to understand." He pet her hair as she settled next to him. "And see if I could handle it."

"You did great," Emma as she went on kissing his chest. "I was brutal as hell with the crop."

"Oh, no," he insisted. "Gentle as a kitten, Swan. Gentle as a kitten."

"So what did you think? Not a fan, or-"

"Oh, I'd love to keep going. This opens up a whole new field of play for us, doesn't it? Provided you'd want to, of course."

"I only went with it to humor you at first," Emma smiled. "But I was all in after you took the riding crop.

"Yeah?"

She nuzzled his chest. "I got wet as fuck while I did it. The way you squirmed, and the sounds you made?" She shivered against him. "Well done."

Killian felt a rush of pride. Emma's usual role was making more and more sense. 

Without saying a word, Emma picked up his hand and guided it between her legs. "Do something interesting."

He raised an eyebrow. "So soon?"

Her eyes darkened. "Don't make me get the crop."

A mix of arousal and fear hit him as he immediately obeyed. "Does the Lady have plans for my cock at the moment?" he asked as he gently rubbed her clit. He tried not to betray a sign of nervousness, but he was worried that he might be too spent to get beyond _half hard_ for a little while.

"No," she sighed. "This one's all about me. In fact if you do get hard, you'll have to take care of yourself."

"Am I allowed to move your body about, or am I at your whim?"

"Do whatever you think will get the job done."

"In that case," he reared up and tucked himself back in his jeans. "I want you spread nice and wide." He sat up between Emma's legs, pushing her knees up and apart. "Mmmmm," he purred as his fingers returned to their task. "Now this is a view. You did take quite a ride before, didn't you?"

"I know what to do with a great cock." Emma's eyelids fluttered as Killian swept his thumb over her clit in an upward motion.

"Compliment taken," he said with a fast push deeper inside her and a firm flick at her clit.

Her thigh muscles jerked.

He bent down to lick and kiss at her hips, and along the line of her thighs. He _almost_ bit down on her hip but decided not to.

 _I belong to Emma,_ he chided himself. _She leaves the marks on me._ His pulse hitched. He was surprised find himself hoping she planned to bite or suck bruises on his flesh at some point.

He felt her start to writhe, soft little moans fluttering in her throat.

"I'm gonna film this," she informed him.

He stayed focused on his job, his tongue sweeping all through he center in no particular pattern.

"Here's Killian," Emma narrated quietly, her breathing shallow and uneven. "He does such a good job with me. He-oh-he uh . . ." she sighed.

 _Losing focus already. I am on a roll today,_ he congratulated himself. _Don't let it go to your head, pirate. You'll get lazy._

Her hips began a gentle roll. "He's staying between my legs un--oh, oh-" some soft panting. "Until I decide I'm wet enough. Then I'm gonna make him sit back and watch me get myself off." She paused. "Did you hear me Killian?"

"Mm-hm."

She yanked him up by his hair.

"Repeat the order."

_I see we're getting back into the swing of things._

"You say when I'm done, and I watch you finish."

"Exactly." She shoved his face back between her legs and continued narrating. "He's been decent so-aaaaaaah, so far. I've only corrected a f-f-f . . . few mistakes," she paused to draw a deep breath. "And he has quite the disciplined cock," she said before literally _kicking him_ away. 

He almost toppled off the edge of the bed.

"But I'm done playing with that toy for now." She held the phone out to Killian. "Film me."

"May I narrate as well?" he asked.

She nodded as she laid back and ran her hands over her already well-fucked core.

"I am Killian Jones, property of Emma Swan. I am her happy-oh, that's beautiful," he said when she went from a gentle petting motion to a more aggressive touch. "Her loyal toy." He'd guessed correctly regarding the state of his cock. Only half hard.

_Actually an advantage at the moment. I can think and speak clearly._

Her stroke quickened.

He fashioned his voice into smooth, cool silk. "I am at her whim, I will _beg_ for her touch if she likes, for her mark on my body, I will spend days at her feet, I will drive my cock to its limits to please her-"

A new surge of arousal coated her fingers.

_Almost there._

"My one use is her pleasure, a I am _worthless_ if I fail-"

She whimpered and bucked upward into her fingers as the other hand pressed down on her clit.

_Boom._

He zoomed out and positioned the camera to capture the whole image. Her flushed face, busy hands, all of it.

"I am pointless! A waste without my Swan's orders, her rule-" he continued speaking as she crested and began the unhurried stroll back to awareness. "If she commands me to toss away my honor . . ."

Her head lolled to the side and she looked at him.

" . . . my pride . . . " He dropped to a whisper. " . . . my mind . . . "

She ran her foot over his thigh.

"I will hurl them away like trash." He zoomed in. "I belong to Emma Swan."

She pushed herself upright. "You should write sappy poetry," she said with a satisfied sigh.

"Is that a command?"

She chuckled. "No. This is: put your shirt back on and put my clothes in the laundry basket."

When he finished the simple task, she rose from the bed. "Don't move, and don't lift a finger to touch me," she said as she approached him. He held still as she walked around him, looking him over like piece of furniture she might purchase. He felt her press against his back, nose nuzzling the base of his neck as her arms came around his waist and ran over his chest. She came around to stand in front of him, pressing close. Her mouth hovered over his. "Hands stay at your sides, I lead, you follow," were her only instructions before leaning in to kiss him.

As per her order, Killian only _responded_ to her cues. When she merely pressed her lips to his, he pressed against hers in kind. When she tilted her head and suddenly lunged into his mouth, he met her battle-ready tongue with enthusiasm. She went on kissing him. Raking her fingers through his hair, over his body, clutching his shirt, only breaking free for split seconds at a time to let them catch a breath. 

Killian had no trouble matching her pace. His struggle was resisting the urge to touch her, or take control of the kiss. Her hands roamed ceaselessly over his body, and warmth of her bare flesh radiated through his clothes. By the time she pushed him away, his cock was more than willing to rejoin the party.

"Don't move, don't talk. Just watch me." said Emma as she took their 'play-clothes box' out of the closet. She rifled through it and selected a strapless bra, lace thigh highs, matching garter belt, and a sheer top. All black, of course. It took all Killian's willpower not to rip his pants open as he watched her get dressed. A process she did not rush.

Then she selected her shoes. Black, spike heeled lace-up boots that came to just below the knees. She unthreaded the laces, placed them neatly on the edge of the bed, and hurled the boots at Killain as she sat down. 

"Put them on me and lace them-in that order."

His cock ached so bad it made him quiver. He picked up the boots and concentrated on the task at hand. A task she made more difficult when she started rubbing her clit. 

"Mmmmm," she moaned. She stroked his hair when he knelt before her. "I've never had a pet. You're completely housebroken too, aren't you?"

"Yes," he replied without looking at her, trying to keep his attention on lacing the boots despite what she was doing to herself. 

"No self respect at all. STOP LACING!" she ordered suddenly."

He froze.

"I just thought of something fun. While you lace, I'm going to count. Every number is another minute."

"Of what?" He asked, realizing it was a horrible mistake before he even finished the question.

He didn't have to look up to know she was glaring. 

"Would you like to take the riding crop until you're a walking fucking bruise?"

His mouth went dry and his muscles tensed. "If . . . if you think that's best."

"Hm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I suppose not."

It took all of Killian's discipline not to show any sign of his relief. 

"I'll be even nicer, and answer your question." She grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back. "Every number is another minute you have to keep your cock in your pants-one, two, three-"

She started counting right away, and he scrambled to work, commanding his hands to cooperate. By some absolute _miracle,_ he finished tying off the second boot just as she got to twenty-two. 

_I suspect it will feel three times longer._ He thought as his cock strained helplessly.

She kicked him away and ran her eyes over his body with a smirk. "We'll have to make a shirt that says you're my personal whore." She stood up and pinned him to the ground with her boot. "Actually, I think I'll have you do that while I'm out." She paused to see if Killian would ask where or why just out if habit. When he didn't, her smirk became a grin. "House. Broken. I guess I forgot to mention, I'm going to mute your phone and hide it in the apartment, throw on a nice long coat, and leave. Call me when you find it and I'll decide what you're allowed to do to me when I get back. Make the new t shirt while I'm on the way home."

From his vantage point, he could see Emma get wetter as she spoke. 

"If you find it before your twenty-two minutes are up, you can _beg me_ to let you get your cock out and I'll consider it. Will you beg _hard_ for me?"

Killian was practically sweating with anticipation. "So hard. God, so so hard."

She took her foot off his chest and headed for the door. "Oh!" She spun back around. "I almost forgot. If you haven't called me in two hours, I'm coming home, and you will _not_ like what I do to you."

He listed to the sound of her hiding the phone. "You can start looking as soon as I lock the door." She called out.

Jangling keys.

Door opening.

Lock turning.

Killian doubted a lighting strike could move faster than he did. He threw open the linen closet and shook out all the towels. Nothing. He ran for living room. Under chairs, the couch, all cushions, behind the couch. Nothing.

_That takes care of the obvious places._

Under potted plant foliage, in the cupboard where they kept puzzle or board games, and inside the game boxes, the of various unused decorative items (vases, small picture frames, etc). Nope.

_On to the kitchen._

Microwave, oven, fridge, on top of the fridge, canned goods cupboard, pots, pans, dishes, cups-he was careful(ish) with the breakable stuff, but otherwise items were not treated delicately. He was nearly out of his mind when his eyes landed on the flour and sugar tins. He ripped the lids off both. At first, his heart sank.

_Where the fuck is it?!?_

Then he saw his salvation. The top of a ziplock bag peeking through the flour. He removed the bag and there it was. The phone. He tore open the bag and groaned when he saw the new screensaver. Emma with his cock in her mouth while she looked up at the camera.

He looked at the clock on the microwave. 

_Nineteen minutes!_ It was only shy of his twenty-two marker by three minutes, but even the chance at a three minute reprieve almost brought him to his knees.

The phone rang three times before she picked up.

He didn't hesitate, "Pleasepleaseplease, I'll take the fucking crop as long as you like! I'll be your whore all month, but _please!"_

"You're allowed."

He went dizzy with relief until he pulled himself out. Things went wrong. His cock was in such pain that just the rush of freedom and fleeting touch of his own hand made him cum.

"No!" he cried out breathlessly, his pulse pouding. "Oh no! oh hell! Dammit, I'm sorry Emma! I'm so sorry!" (He knew better than to ask for forgiveness.)

Emma sighed. "You came, didn't you?"

"Yes," he whimpered. The admission won him another sigh and a long silence.

"I was going to let you fuck me as hard as you pleased the second I walked in the door, but now? . . . I'll be home in . . . twenty five minutes. You will _meet me_ at the door, in your new shirt, with a tumbler of scotch. Neat. The good stuff. You will crawl to the dining table, sit on the floor, and watch me drink it. And . . . I assume the apartment is fairly torn up, yeah?"

Killian looked a round the room. "Quite."

"When I'm done with my drink you'll put the couch back together, and I'll lay down and start getting myself off while you put the rest of the apartment back in order . . . " she paused. Killian could tell she was thinking things over. "I haven't decided if I'm going to make you take the crop again. We'll see how I feel once you're done cleaning. Either way, when you're done with all that, _then_ you can fuck me as hard as you please."

It was honestly less severe than he'd expected.

He made and put on the 'Emma Swan's Personal Whore' t shirt, poured her drink, and waited at the front door just as patiently as he'd waited at the bedroom door with the crop in his mouth. Aside from the cum mishap, he thought he was doing well-and Emma was doing _spectacularly._ He hoped it was at least in part because she had his example to follow. The thought made him smile. 

A shiver went through him when she opened the door. His pule hitched when she took her coat off. In all his panic, he'd somehow forgotten she was wearing a 'play clothes' outfit.

She grinned as she hung up the coat. "You forgot about this, didn't you?"

"I did." He handed her the scotch.

She grinned and traced the letters on his shirt. "It's a good look for you."

"Thank you. Shall I crawl now?"

"Absolutely," she sipped her scotch and followed him to the dining table.

She picked up a book from the coffee table before sitting down. As per instruction, Killian watched her savor every small sip of her drink. She turned her feet toward him. "Take them off, put them away, and go get the couch ready."

He finished arranging the couch just as she took her last sip of scotch. She crossed the room, laid down without acknowledging him in the slightest, and positioned herself. Feet on the cushions, knees brought up and spread just enough to get her hands between her legs. 

Though he wanted nothing more than to stare at her and stroke himself, he had a job to do. He cleaned. He even rinsed out the wine glass and put it in the dishwasher. All while listening to the sound of his Swan pleasuring herself shamelessly. He tried not to look at her for fear it would be more distraction than he could handle, but sometimes there was no avoiding it-or he just couldn't resist a fleeting glance. Every time he did look, her face was flushed, hips rolling, leg muscles pulsing. He needed to fuck her. Intensely.

 _But will I take the crop first?_ he wondered. _For how long?_

"Look at me," Emma rasped when he finished his work. "Crawl over here and look at me."

He did as he was told.

"Mmmmm," she gazed at him, pupils completely blown out. "Now . . . crop or fuck?" she asked herself. "Crop or fuck . . . "

He whimpered as she spread her legs wide enough to give him an unhindered view of her sex-slicked fingers.

Her panting grew heavier, more ragged. "Ju-just sooooo, ah, so you know," she slowed her fingers and hips, and took in a deep breath. "I'm not skipping the crop for your sake-"

Killian's heart and cock both swelled. He was desperate to bury himself inside her.

"I'm skipping the crop because owning a _pet_ \- even such an obedient one, is hard work and I've earned myself a good _fuck,_ got that?"

Killian swallowed, hoping his mouth remembered how to form words. "Of course." Every muscle in his body tightened as he waited for her to give the official order.

"Tell me why I'm letting you fuck me," she quizzed, speeding up her stroke up again.

"Because my cock is your toy and you may use it as you please."

"Fuck me," she ordered through gritted teeth.

Never in the history of stripping as anyone stripped faster than Killian Jones. He positioned himself over her with almost equal speed, and grabbed the arm of the couch to brace himself as he thrust.

She gasped and arched into him, keeping one hand at work on her clit while the other clawed down his arm.

He hardly felt it. All he cared about was the wet, pulsing, _clutch_ of Emma's greedy center. His every brutal thrust was greeted with another shudder inside her. She loved him best when he was deep (and when they played the game, ruthless as well) so he alternated his focus between force and depth. He _made himself_ pay attention to these details despite the temptation to lose himself in her because he meant to give her his total submission. To exist for absolutely nothing but her pleasure, and discard every trace of other goals.

 _She does it so beautifully when I own her,_ he thought as his cock swelled. _If I can't do the same I don't deserve to play._ When he'd decided to switch up the game he promised himself he wouldn't hesitate or hold back, and he hadn't. But he had assumed that at the end of the day, with the curiosity satisfied, he'd prefer owning her. As it turned out he enjoyed the hell out of both roles. 

Emma threw her head back and sounded off a rattling, high pitched moan as she released and lost all sense. Killian watched it rock through her, head to toe and back again, lap after lap as though it would never relent. With every new burst he struggled not to go blind as well, determined to see her through, to give her all the cock she'd demanded for as long he was able. 

He only survived by chanting over and over in his head: _Emma's order, Emma's order, Emma's order . . ._

As Emma began to settle, she pulled him to her and rasped in his ear. "Hold still. Right _now!"_

For the hundredth time that day, Killian felt certain he was right on the brink of failure. But he stilled himself all the same.

She looked up at his shaking body and desperate eyes and smiled, fully sated. "When I count to thirty, you can cum. One." She smiled. "Two."

 _Just be glad she's not rolling her hips,_ he thought.

"Three . . . four . . . five, six, seven, eight, nine," she counted faster and faster, and when she reached thirty, Killian's world dropped out from under him and he fell, oblivious to everything but the indescribable relief of _finally_ cumming inside her after what felt like hours of teasing torment. He came, and the universe went dark. Ceased to exist.

When he wandered back into his own skin, he found himself collapsed on Emma, her hands smoothing over his sweat-drenched hair. He had no clue how much time had passed. Seconds? Days? It didn't matter.

"Unbelievable," he muttered breathlessly. "I can't believe I got through it all! How do . . . how do you always . . . ?

She a placed a long, lingering kiss on his forehead. "Commitment." She said with a happy sigh. "Total commitment."


	3. Happy Birthday, Emma!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot is in the title.

He made sure the packages arrived a full three months before Emma's birthday. That way it was _certain_ he'd have control of her sometime before then. He'd never known Emma to go more than three weeks without asking to play. .

In the meantime he intentionally stopped trying to come up with anything new, or putting new spins on the usual. He still made sure she enjoyed herself, of course, but he could tell she'd noticed the difference. Probably just assumed he'd finally tapped out his creative well. There's only so much one can do, after all. And they were limited by circumstance.

One doesn't want to bring elaborate accessories into a house with a child. (They were both extremely conscientious about keeping their box locked, but 'first time for everything.' And the worst possible time.) If Henry discovered things like the garter belts and so forth it would still be _horrifically_ awkward - but if those things were accompanied by a full array of more elaborate items all _clearly_ designed for a single purpose? There would be no recovering. The relationship between the three of them would be irrevocably altered beyond your standard 'I know more about your sex life than I'd like to' situation. Especially since Henry was still faaaaaaar to young to understand the complexities of sexuality. 

So they made their decisions very carefully. 

"Don't open this," he said one day as he slid the first package that arrived under her bed. "It's for your birthday." He said it without the slightest hint of innuendo in his voice. Gave her no reason to believe it was anything other than a new trinket of some sort. Same thing a week later when the second package arrived.

Emma had looked pleased. "You spoil me."

"Yes I do," he replied(again, completely nonchalant). He kissed her on the head and went off to work. He'd taken up work as a fish merchant, of course. Kept him in familiar territory - though the fisherman's plunder did stink a hell of a lot more than treasure. Still, it was a challenge in its own way. 

The day of her birthday they were all assembled at the Charming's house enjoying the usual birthday festivities. The family had a whole day planned. Henry was making a bit of his own money doing odd jobs around town, so he treated Emma to a nice breakfast at Granny's. Followed by cake and gifts at the Charming's. Hook gave her a new leather jacket, black, and a a certificate for a day at a spa. Hour long full body massage, and whatever else she wanted. The spa offered a very upscale menu of the finest meals, and Hook had been supplying the owner with his best catches for free for _months._

Emma loved the gifts, but she side eyed him a bit. Two packages under the bed, but one of her gifts was a little piece of paper promising her day of awesome. Later while everyone was milling around chatting, eating cake off of paper plates. Emma and Hook drifted to their own corner of the room.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do I have to ask?"

He chuckled. 

"C'mon,' she elbowed him gently. "What else did you get me?"

"Nothing much," _now_ he brought out the 'I'm implying something' look. "Just a few new game pieces."

He relished watching Emma try not to react. "Game pieces, that's . . . clever."

He grinned. "You'll get them the next time we play." He leaned close and whispered in her ear - just a sweet moment between a loving couple as far as anyone else could tell. "I promise they'll be a hell of a challenge."

Emma's first thought made her feel a little bit guilty. _Regina's turn with Henry isn't supposed to be until next weekend, how can I pawn him off sooner?_

"I'm a bad mother," she whispered to Hook.

He ran his Hook down her spine innocuously. (Such a _sweet_ couple!) "eager to play, are we?"

"That and I hate you." She walked away to socialize with others and spent the next two days beating her head against a wall trying to think of a plausible excuse for Regina's time to start early. The third day was her friend. Or rather, the third morning. It came to her out of the blue as she was making her morning coffee. 

Hook was still asleep. 

With both she and Regina in very serious relationships, he hadn't had much one on one time with either of them. But Robin was leaving for a five day hunting trip _that day,_ and Regina had mentioned a few times how she'd miss him. 

_Henry can keep her from being lonely!_

She ran the idea by Henry the moment he shuffled into the kitchen. He loved it. They called Regina right away (Henry's idea), and she was more than happy to accept the offer. Hook stepped out of the bedroom while they were rounding up Henry's things. 

"What's this?" He asked with a yawn.

"I'm going to Regina's place early so she won't be lonely while Robin's gone!" Henry replied with animated excitement. 

"Hm." Hook cast a glance at Emma. "That's very sweet of you Henry."

"It was Mom's idea!" He squeezed between Emma and Hook and trotted down the hallway. "I'm ready to go when you are."

Emma looked at Hook. _The look._ "Right behind you, kid," she called back. "I shouldn't be gone long pirate," she said quietly.

He went to work the second he heard the front door shut. He'd had the scenario planned out for a long time, so it was a quick job. 

Emma barely had the door open a crack when it was flung open and she was yanked inside by her jacket collar and thrown against the wall with a bracing THUD. 

"Eight days," Hook growled with his hook arm across her chest, pinning her to the wall. "You couldn't make it eight more days?!" He thrust his leg between her more than pliant thighs and moved his face close to hers. "You must be the most cock hungry creature alive, Swan. Is that the case?"

Her heart was racing faster than it had in months. 

"IS IT?" He prompted her again, grinding his leg into her.

"Yes."

"Well - " he drove his tongue into her mouth and kissed her like it was an act of war while he tore open her pants. Then he pulled back and placed his hand flat against her belly, fingertips hovering just above her panties. "Let's just see how hungry, shall we?" He slid his hand down under her panties and kept going until he found what he was looking for. He groaned. "Already so bloody wet, and we've only just started." He worked two fingers into her as much as he could from that angle. "I imagine that you . . . " he started thrusting his hand upward as if trying to lift her up the wall, "Could. Take. Cock. All. _Day!"_ He settled, withdrew his fingers, and held them up to Emma's gaze. "Couldn't you?"

"Can I?" she asked. "Please?"

Hook ran his slicked fingers over her lips. "Clean this mess up and I'll think about it."

Emma followed the order without pause.

Hook moved his hand so she had to tilt her head to the side. "You poor _desperate_ thing," he rasped. "You really can't wait to see your new toys can you?"

Emma moaned as she finished her job. "Can I please?"

He ran his hook through her hair, sweeping it behind her back. "You know what I haven't heard from you in quite a while?" He bit down on her earlobe. "A good hard _grovel."_ He threw her to the ground. "So get to it." While Emma begged he leaned against the wall, got his half-hard cock out, and stroked it to full attention while repeatedly telling Emma she wasn't begging hard enough. He couldn't tell if she really meant it. Maybe she'd rather just get herself off instead?

When her chest was heaving so hard Hook was worried she might hyperventilate, he lunged forward, grabbed her by the hair, and angled his cock right in front of her. She opened her mouth expecting him to either thrust in or push her head forward, but instead he pulled her head back at a tilt.

"Noooooo," he instructed as he let go of her hair and stroked himself over her face . "Keep. Begging. Quietly!" He barked. "A man can only take so much _noise."_ He stroked as the breath of her needy, whining whispers caressed his cock like feather light fingers. The faster and hotter her breath came, the closer he got to cumming. He angled slightly askew of her mouth so that when he did release a lot of it would end up on the right side of her face. He closed his eyes and let her beautiful pleading finish him off.

_I forgot how well she could beg._

As per his 'be dull from now until gift day' plan, the handful of times they'd played since then he hadn't really pushed her to the max. Just a bit of whimpering and he'd given her whatever the hell it was he'd promised. Which made the current sensory marvel of her fully surrendered pleas all the more intoxicating. 

When he opened his eyes again, the sight before him was fantastic. Emma panting, eyes wide with anticipation and hope, half her face bearing evidence of her expert submission.

She gripped his legs. "Was it enough?"

Hook lifted her face up by the chin. "Take off your shirt and hand it to me. Bra too."

She did as she was told while Hook tucked his cock back in his pants.

He knelt down in front of Emma. "I know how much you enjoy licking my cum off your fingers -"

Her eyes lit up.

"But I'm giving you enough presents today." He wiped her face with her shirt and tossed it and the bra aside. "Can't have you getting greedy. Don't pout, love. There will be other days." He snaked his hand under her panties again. She sighed as he rubbed circles over her clit. "But let's get today started, shall we?"

He stood up and reached into the pocket of one of the coats hanging by the door, and withdrew a roll of black electrical tape.

_He set up a scene while I was gone!_

"Press your wrists together. Don't cross them." He bound her wrists with the tape. "Get on all fours."

She balanced herself carefully while he pulled off her shoes and socks, and bound her around the ankles and knees as well. He walked around her, twirling the roll of tape on his hook.

"Alright. Your new toys are in our box. Crawl to it and we'll play."

Her first instinct was to pitch forward and go at it like crawling through trenches.

"NoNo." She felt Hook's stern foot on her back. "No, up on hands and knees."

Her excited shiver made Hook's cock twitch just a tiny bit. He'd spent the last several months dreaming of _this game._ "Off you go," he said as he lifted his foot off her back. He followed along beside her as she leapt through the apartment like a bound-up rabbit, and _prayed_ she'd get to there room quickly despite the punishing hardwood floors. 

Twice she attempted too far a leap and fell over. Part of him wanted to threaten that one more fall and he'd make her wait until sunset to get her presents. The greater the threat the harder she pushed herself, and it was his job to make sure she pushed herself. Yes. In any other circumstance he'd have threatened exactly that. _Keep your damn balance!_ But he couldn't bring himself to risk delaying the game a second longer than necessary, even if the risk was small. Still, there had to be some kind of consequence or the game just wouldn't be . . . right. He wouldn't be a proper owner. 

By the time Emma reached the bedroom door she was wincing every time her knees struck against the hardwood floor. But she plunged forward to the open closet door with no hesitation.

Hook was enormously proud of them both. Her for rising to the challenge. Him for leveraging the challenge in the first place when really he'd desperately wanted to meet her at the front door, new toys in hand.

Emma knelt in front of the box and looked up at Hook, awaiting further instruction. It did not escape her notice that the riding crop was propped against the closet door. Hook heaved a deep sigh as he picked it up and ran it over the length of her back. "Now, you're getting eight lashes no matter what - one for each day you just couldn't bloody wait. But," he walked around to the other side of her, still running the crop over her skin, "you also fell down twice on the way here. Could've sprained your wrist or something and cost me an entire day's play." He lifted her chin with the crop. "And you are my favorite toy, Swan. So what to do . . . " he slung the crop against his shoulder as if it were a rifle. "What shall we do . . . ? How about, you take the eight lashes, and wait another twenty minutes to open the box _or_ you take eigh _teen_ lashes and open it now."

"Eighteen!" She replied without hesitation. 

"Really? You'd rather I hurt you than wait a measly twenty minutes?"

She nodded aggressively. "Yes! Please!" She went on all fours to underline her willingness.

Hook brought the crop down with a smile. "And the Lady gets her way. You see?" He brought it down again. "I am sometimes nice." Another strike. "I expect good _manners_ by the way." He struck on the word 'manners.' 

She thanked him after each remaining strike.

When he finished, he took a moment to enjoy the sight of her flushed and panting, glad he'd given her a choice rather than sentence her to the twenty minute wait.

 _He knows the difference between pain and outright cruelty,_ she thought. _I am so goddamn lucky!_  
Again, not a moment's hesitation. Inside was a package wrapped in dainty pink wrapping paper, with "ribbon" trim fashioned out of black electrical tape. On the wrapping was written to: Whore. From: Owner. She ripped open the gift without a hint of modesty. 

Hook chuckled. 

Emma found herself looking at a deliciously mysterious combination. An object which bore little resemblance to a cock, but was clearly meant to be _inserted._ A dainty pink color almost the same shade as her wrapping paper. Beneath it was Hook's cell phone, and beneath that was a flowy black skirt. A few possibilities darted through Emma's mind, each making her core even more slick with arousal and her pulse speed up.

The reaction was not lost on Hook. 

He flung her back and cut the bindings at her legs and knees with a blade they kept in the box. Then went about removing her pants and panties as slow as he could stand to with his cock so alert and enthused, trailing his fingers delicately down her legs as he worked. 

"Ooooh," she whined. _Really?"_

Hook allowed the semi-question as she knew it often pleased him to hear her blatant frustration. "Almost there my lovely toy," he whispered. When he had her free of those garments, he cut the binding around her wrists as well. "Stand up and put on the skirt."

She realized when she put it on that it had deep pockets running straight down along the legs.

"Put your hands in the pockets."

Her breath hitched. The bottom and inner side of the pockets were slit. She could easily fit her hand through. The slit on the inside pocket stopped halfway up so it couldn't be seen by anyone. She figured if someone did catch a flash of it she could always be "embarrassed" not to have noticed that her pocket had a tear. The beginnings of a picture began to form in her mind. She hoped she was right.

"Sit back down. Here facing me." When she was situated he gave her the pink -

_Vibrator. Unless it sprouts legs once it's in there, it looks pretty standard. But what's with Hook's phone?_

He snaked his hand up her skirt until he reached her center. "Now slide it in. Shouldn't be too difficult," he said as he pressed his hand flush against her and massaged slowly. "You're wet as hell." He removed his hand so she could do as he said after she finished licking his hand clean, as per usual. Then he picked up the phone with the most mischievous expression Emma had ever seen on him, even during their most challenging games.

"Stand up," he whispered.

He remained sitting, but scooted back a few feet for an easier view of her.

"I discovered this _brilliant_ invention while I was gift shopping for you. The internet is the greatest thing about this realm, by the way. Anyhow . . ." he opened an app on the phone. All I have to do is this -"

He pressed a button and the thing inside her quivered a bit. Emma figured it would happen, but the sensation was still enough to elicit a delighted exclamation.

"And if I do this . . . " he tapped several times. With each tap the vibration grew more intense.

The muscles inside her rippled with pleasure. She was just starting to really get into it when Hook shut it off.

_Dammit! I knew he was gonna do it, but dammit!_

"All I had to do was load some software on your phone - being such a filthy thing, the app is invisible unless you put in a code, so I knew you wouldn't discover it - and now it doesn't matter if you're right here and I'm ten miles outside Storybrook. As long as there's a wifi signal, I could be halfway across the world and this lovely thing would work. No clue how -" he pressed the button again without warning.

Emma let out a soft whimper, and he turned it off.

"But it does." He stood up walked around behind Emma and yanked her hips against the hard-on he refused to take out of his pants despite the wanting cries of his body. Regardless how it would appear to the outside observer, the game _wasn't_ strictly about getting him off. Sometimes he had to hurt himself to give Emma what she needed.

He brought his hook to her shoulder and swept her hair away from her ear. Then he bit her earlobe and tugged back. Hard enough to leave a mark, but soft enough that the mark would disappear shortly. They'd 'learned by doing' along the way. Only twice had Emma been forced to wear a band-aid over it and claim some small injury. Now they knew exactly how much they could get away with.

He grit his teeth and growled directly into her ear, "guess who's going to the Library?"

Emma's throat ran dry. _God you're a genius!_

"Am I wearing an actual shirt or just a jacket over nothing?"

"Mmmm," he moaned at her willingness to push their limits. "Actual shirt," he replied and nibbled softly down her shoulder. "Wait here." He went to choose her attire. A white lace bra direct from their toy box, lacy white panties to match, and a snug green sweater from the clothes rack. The sweater's material was juuuuust thick enough to not be semi-sheer. For shoes he selected standard black flats. She finished getting dressed, and he gave her a final inspection to make sure he didn't want to change his mind.

As before, he settled behind her and bit her earlobe. The other earlobe. "Off you go," he ordered cheerfully with a solid smack on the ass. "Call me when you get there and we'll see how far you can take this."

"I'll take anything for you," she replied with fondness and determination.

 _Most amazing woman on the planet,_ he thought as he watched her leave, _and she's all mine._

He didn't walk her to the door. And he didn't let himself unzip his pants until he got her call.

"I'm sure you're smart enough to be on the Bluetooth?" Was the first thing he said.

"Of course," she whispered.

He sat down on the bed and gave himself a gentle stroke, the phone sitting right next to him.

_"Oh hi Belle."_

He gave her a good strong jolt.

 _"No, just a little shiver."_ A pause. _"No, I'm not looking for anything specific. Regina has Henry, thought I'd take the chance for some me time. Browse and relax."_

He dimly heard Belle's reply.

_"You're not spending time with Killian?"_

He grinned.

_"Pfft! That pirate doesn't own me!"_

Cheeky. Just for that he gave her another jolt. He figured she must have kept it under control this time because he didn't hear Belle say anything.

Emma and Belle said their goodbyes.

"Go to the stacks and choose a book. Any book. Then stand there and look like you're reading it."

"Found a book," she whispered a moment later.

"I'm here stroking my cock, Emma." He gave her a quick, soft pulse. "I'm imagining you on it."

She gripped her book.

"Rocking in that wonderful slow way you do when we're not playing. When you're allowed to have a say," he purred. "The way you pant and cry out as you ride." He dropped his voice. "Rock your hips a bit, Emma," he said as he delivered a series of quick, strong pulses.

She did as she was told, making it look as though she was just swaying her body, her mind absorbed in the book. Her breathing shallowed, and she was almost afraid she might tear the book in half. It was a 426 page hardback.

"Are you doing it?"

"Mmhm."

He set the thing to deliver quick, strong jolts and went back to stroking himself.

 _I really do love this toy,_ he thought as he listened to the sound of her breathing. He lightened and slowed his stroke so as to keep ahold of his wits.

"Hold still." He stopped stroking and switched the device back to manual. "Or maybe you're not here. Perhaps I'm there - yes, I like that better. I'm there. Find an aisle with no one on either side." He knew it wouldn't be hard, Storybrook was a small town and most bought their own books.

"I'm good right here."

"Right then. I'm there. Cozied up against you. We're such a precious couple. It's almost nauseating. The few people in the aisle wander away to let us snuggle adorably. They're such nice people, aren't they Emma?"

"Uh-huh."

"The last man has just barely cleared the aisle when I put my hand in your pocket and creeeeeep down toward the opening - put your hand in your pocket, Swan. And get to your ridiculously soaked clit." He grinned. "Tell me when you get there."

Emma chose a smaller book so she could move her body closer against the shelf and hold the book open with one hand, her elbow gently resting against the shelf.

Hook's cock twitched with every shaky breath she drew.

"I'm there," she whispered.

"I'm going in a tiny circular rub," he said.

Emma mimicked his words, keeping an eye on the skirt too make sure there was no _overtly_ obvious sign of what she was doing.

"Very light touch at first, but that doesn't last long. I add pressure."

Emma's head began to swim as she struggled to hold in a moan.

"I _love_ watching you bite your lip to keep from making any noise."

 

"You tend to be quite the noisy fuck, Swan."

"I wa-" she sucked in a strained breath to keep from crying out. "I want you to know how . . . " she trailed off, paranoid about whether or not her stroke was noticeable. Granted she was alone in the aisle, but there were at least ten other people in the library.

"How what?"

"How goddamn much I love your cock."

He could tell she was speaking through gritted teeth.

"Inside me, in my mouth, over my body or just-" her fingers found that perfect spot, and she gasped before she could stop herself.

Hook's heart raced at the sound. He struggled to control his cock. "Go on," he panted, making no effort to hide the sound of his own arousal.

 _You evil fuck! "_ Just watching you from across the room while you get yourself off."

He chuckled softly. "You always look so sad when I do that. Like you're aching to cross the room and have me."

Emma took her hand off her clit and forced herself - willed herself to relax her body when a middle aged woman wandered into the aisle. Luckily, the game had turned her into an Olympic Champion of self control. She moved her hand and drummed against her leg as though she had a song stuck in her head. She also hummed softly and hoped Hook would get the picture.

"Oooooooooh," he said with a long sigh. "If they don't leave soon go find another aisle."

She sagged with relief (which actually helped sell the 'I'm relaxing with a book' vibe).  
He listened to her hum for nearly a minute. He had his finger hovering over the 'magic button,' which was set just two settings away from the highest vibration. He waited patiently for word from Emma.

"Okay," she whispered, barely audible.

He instantly pressed the button and held it down, loving the sound of her entirely _frantic_ efforts to control her body and keep her mouth shut.

She rasped.

Sucked in breath after breath.

He could even hear her grinding her teeth.

He didn't relent. His cock was aching like crazy. "I rub all through the length of you, then I press at your entrance while the rest of my hand keeps rocking against your clit - you know how I do it. In waves that always make you go to fucking pieces.

"I can't do it," she whined.

"Is there someone in the aisle with you?" He asked as he began oscillating the pulse from medium low to highest.

"No."

"Then _do it!"_

"I there's no way I could h-hi-hide -"

"Think of a way 'round the problem, Swan!" He growled fiercely. "Do it or say lemon, you get no third option!" He turned off the toy.

"Okayokayokay," she warbled, looking all around her, brain firing on all pistons. She found the answer in seconds, put down her book, and shuffled quickly to the end of the aisle where it met the wall. If anyone showed up she'd double over and claim to have gotten a sudden stabbing pain in her . . . somewhere. She braced her arm against the shelf and allowed herself a soft moan as she searched out her entrance and pressed in just far enough to feel the base of her new toy.

"I'm ready," she whispered as she faced toward the wall at an angle and braced her elbow on the shelf.

"See how easy that was?" He asked while he programmed in an auto setting so his hand would be free for the next part.

"Yes," she panted quietly.

"How much you need me to _force you_ into these things?"

"Yes." A quiet whimper.

"You know some other owner might've been _nice_ just now. Let you scuttle off to a supply closet to cum. Is that what you need, Swan? A _nice_ man?"

She shook her head. "No."

The auto program was off and running, and Hook was free to give his desperate cock the attention it needed.

She felt the vibration start again.

"What sort of man do you need?" Hook rasped.

The force of vibration climbed steadily.

"Strict." Emma knew she'd kill anyone who interrupted them.

"And?" Hook sped up his stroke.

Emma wracked her brain. "Brutal!"

He sped up his stroke again. "And?" He shouted.

"Fucking _relentless,"_ she rasped, her fingers rocking the device inside her so it pressed against her walls while they pushed and tensed, longing for friction. She went on before hook could speak. "Makes me take more than I ever -- ever thought I could! Learn to _stand it,_ be the ahhhhhhhhh, oh, _fuck!_ The best whore I can!" The new toy was going wild inside her with her own hand helping it out, and she could hear Hook groaning, panting, whispering obscene compliments. 

She gripped the shelf and buried her face in her arm, seconds away from cumming . "Hook," she gasped with the last of her sanity. "Fuck me! Own me!" Everything dissolved. All of her discipline went to keeping her self quiet as she came. Not everyone had the talent to manage the feat. But they had trained each other. 

Hook bucked wildly into his own hand as the sound of Emma struggling to restrain her orgasm shook every cell of him, wracking him to pieces. "Swan," he whispered. "Swan, Swan, _Swan . . ."_ he collapsed onto the mattress, spent, and took a moment to gulp down air before clawing the phone into his hand and turning the setting gradually back to zero. The sound of Emma slowly calming down nearly rocked him to sleep, but he fought the impulse.

He wasn't done pushing her.

Meanwhile in the Library, Emma cleaned her hand off on the lining of her pocket and chose a book to pretend she gave two shits about while she waited for Hook's order to return home.

"Excellent," he said finally. "Outstanding job."

She smiled. An orgasm is always nice of course, but there was something special about cumming when she was completely at Hook's command. Under his care. "That was awesome," she laughed.

_"Was?"_

She wasn't sure whether to feel excited or terrified. Her body settled on both. "Are you serious?"

Hook explained as he cleaned himself off. "Take off your panties and tell me how wet they are."

"I can tell you that without taking them-"

"But I told you to take them off," he interrupted. His voice was quiet but full of authority. 

She swallowed, nervous. "It's a bit of a process to-"

"You'll figure out a way."

She took a deep breath and trotted to the head of the aisle to take a quick inventory of where everyone was. The only person close by was fully engrossed in combing through their section. She dashed back to the wall, put her hands in her pockets, pushed the panties down over her hips, wiggled them down her legs, and dove down to catch them the second they hit her ankles. She turned to face the wall, nerves rattled and panties fisted in hand.

Hook could tell by her breathing that she'd done it. "Well?"

She sighed. "You won't believe it, Hook. I've stepped out of the shower less wet."

Hook chuckled. "Then I'm quite proud of us both. Well done, Emma. You may leave now. Take the toy out of you when you get in the car."

He was waiting at the door when she got home, but this time he didn't yank her inside. Just held out his hand for the panties. She fished them out of her purse.

"Look at these," he said, playing them about in his fingers. "This is downright shameful." He guided her against the wall and pressed himself against her, dangling the panties between them. "I've fucked who knows how many bar wenches and they _never_ got this wet." He ground himself against her. "Are you satisfied now?" He raised an eyebrow. "Had enough?"

She shook her head slowly.

"Well I'm quite spent, sorry to say. But -" he held out the panties for her to take with her teeth.

She didn't look down, but she heard his pants unzip and his belt rattle. She stayed still as stone.

He took her hand and guided it to press against him. Not even half hard. "If you prove skilled enough to wake up such a worn out cock, I suppose that would be worth a reward of some kind. He looked her straight in the eye and placed his hand and hook on either side of her face. "But I'll not lay a finger on you until it happens."

She began to rub him over the fabric of his underwear.

"Not a touch. Not a kiss. Not a bite - we both know how much you like that _sting_ don't we?"

She nodded as she went on massaging his cock. A little thrill shot through her when she felt it twitch, and a hint of hardness start to creep in. His face betrayed no hint of arousal as he stared at her.

_Either he's fighting me for the game, or he really is this worn out. Maybe both._

It took a lot of gentle massaging to get it half-hard, but when it did she slipped her hand in and started to stroke. A small flicker of sex appeared on his face, but he shook it away like an annoying fly. The more he grew, the more she picked up her speed and friction. 

Despite his stone face he was drawing deep breaths, and when she glanced to the side of her head she could plainly see his fist clenched in a white-knuckled ball.

"You. Must. Be," he rasped, voice struggling as he fought against the tide. "The most. Cock greedy. Woman. Alive!"

Emma knew how to seal the deal. Rather than respond to the remark, she used her tongue to draw more of the panties into her mouth, coating it with her own taste. It was his weakness.

He broke. Tore the panties out of her mouth and used his hook to pull her head forward into a punishing kiss. He lapped at her tongue, indeed savoring her while she remained pliant. Following his silent guidance. When he was done he hurled her to the ground.

She propped up on her elbows and spread her legs wide expecting him to fuck her right away. Actually, half expecting to be fucked right through the floor if the look on his face was anything to go by. _Oh this is gonna be good!_

He got on his knees between her legs and glared. "That was just cruel Swan!" He yelled. _"You_ may be able to take it all day, but some of us are _human,_ and we need our bloody rest!"

He sounded furious. Her hips rocked and the muscles in her thighs began to shudder with anticipation.

"You know, I've half a mind not to give it to you."

She whimpered.

"Just cum all over your skirt and make you sleep in it. Right here in the hallway."

She shook her head and whimpered louder.

He reared up so he was looming over her and started to stroke himself at a gallop. "Then trade me something for it - and not the crop. Lashes are too easy."

Emma struggled to focus and sort through her options.

Hook winced. "Better hurry up, I'm close. If you let me finish over you, the game _stops._ I don't rest up for more play later on, no. I curl up with a book," his voice grew ragged. "Or go for a-a-a walk, or bake a ca-cake, _anything_ but service you in any way! Now TRADE SOMETHING!"

"THE CLOSET!" She shouted, and he was inside her in a blink, still glaring as he fucked away madly.

Every thrust was validation. _I did it!_

She'd happily accept revenge for the victory. It was important he take back ownership before the game ended, but the momentary thrill of winning was worth it.

'The closet.' The closet is where you put things when you're not using them.

When Hook finished, he cuffed her in the closet next to their toy box.

"But I will let you have _this."_ He handed her the phone, the vids of all their various exploits already playing. And he handed her the earpiece. "In case you want volume. I'll fetch you out again whenever I'm ready." He stood up. "Might not happen though. If it doesn't . . ." he paused to think. "You can come out at midnight, and the game is over. Understood?"

She gave him a satisfied, cum-wearied smile.

"Good then." 

She settled in to watch footage of their past adventures and waited to be played with again. She had to wait several hours, but by late after noon she was crawling blindfolded and naked through the apartment, riding crop clutched between her teeth, and new toy humming away inside her. 

_Happy fucking Birthday to me!_


	4. Chores, etc.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic smut. Enjoy.

It was sort of a "hand off ritual." Emma, Regina, and Henry were the required attendees of course, but whenever Hook, Hood, or the Charmings were available, their standing invitation was understood.

Today everyone was there. The whole gang, crowded around the table at Granny's.

"Did you enjoy your two weeks. with Regina?" asked Emma.

"Yeah," Henry smiled. "I spent a lot of time with Roland. He really likes Legos."

Robin tussled his kid's hair. "We didn't have them in our land. I'll admit a few times I've caught myself 'helping him' build something long after he's lost interest."

Regina pushed the tiny lemon slice away from her fruit cup. "Does anyone want this?" She looked around the table. "Emma, do you take lemon in your tea?"

Emma made a split section decision. _Play day!_

Yes, it was officially her turn with Henry, but he'd joined an after school boating club (thank you, Hook), and that day they were leaving directly from campus to go on their first weekend sailing trip - the idea being that the teacher would involve himself as little as possible in the running of things and let the students test their mettle. Henry was really excited about it.

She shook her head. "Sometimes, but not today. Lemon just doesn't sound good to me." She knew Hook caught the drift.

Henry leapt from the booth and said his goodbyes the second he finished his pancake.

"What's your plan for the day, love?" he asked her, tapping his fork on then edge of plate. "Anything fun?"

"I'll probably be tied up in housework most of the day, actually."

"Well then," Hook looked at her lovingly, "perhaps I'll make it a half day at the docks and come home early. Help you get the job done."

Regina raised a dubious eyebrow at him. _"You're_ useful around the house?"

"I do all kinds if things," he replied with a smile. 

Emma couldn't tell of the conversation was erotic or hilarious. "Yeah, he was easy to train."

Hook was the first of them to finish his plate. A few minutes after he left Emma got a text. 

_Will be home in 3 hours. I expect to see something interesting waiting for me._

She started brainstorming ideas as she casually munched on her slice of cantaloupe. 

Two and a half hours later she had the scene set up.

Nothing but a sheer black negligee that fell halfway down her thigh. Bent over the dining table, gagged and blindfolded with black satin, hands palms down on either side of her. A length of twine and a roll of masking tape nestled in the fruit bowl in the middle of he table. Good, nutritious oranges and grapes, and their de-facto sex toys. The contradiction alone was almost enough to get her wet. 

_Almost._ She waited waited patiently for her pirate. 

Her body flooded with alert readiness when she heard the key in the lock. Heard Hook hang up his coat, and tread into the main room. She expected to hear some kind of reaction to the sight of her. A gasp. A moan. Maybe he'd run his hook down her spine. Instead it was though she wasn't even there. She heard him tread into the kitchen and open the refrigerator. The refrigerator door shut, and a cupboard opened. A second later she heard a _crunch_ that sounded like him munching on chips.

 _God I hope he's staring at me,_ she thought, though it wouldn't surprise her if he was facing the other way focusing totally on his snack. A few minutes later he opened the cupboard again to put away his snack, and padded down the hall.

The shower came on. The sound was clear enough that she knew he'd left the bathroom door open.

_Asshole!_

The water turned off.

He must have opened their toybox while the water was running because when he came back down the hall, the sound of his feet a stern thunder in her ears, she had no idea he carried the crop in hand.

"Ah!" she cried out and hissed when it landed on her back.

"Manners!" he growled.

"Thank you." The gratitude won her another three strikes.

"It's the least you should take to make up for _this!"_

She felt him lean over her and reach above her body with the crop. A second later the roll of masking tape landed next to her head.

"You made _suggestions?"_ He set down the crop and fisted his hand in the negligee. "Tape or twine?! I told you to arrange a _sight_ I would appreciate, not to tell me what the fuck to do!"

Her pulse raced. This outcome was totally unexpected - which was ironically exactly what she should have expected from Hook. He never failed to surprise her. "I'm sorry," she breathed.

He pulled pulled the negligee hard enough to lift her body halfway off the table. "Why am I the one who gets to make these decisions?" he hissed in her ear. _"Only_ me?"

"Because you're the only one who knows what I need!" she cried, silently praying the infraction wouldn't cost her the rest of the game.

"Bloody right I am!" He released her and she fell back to the table. "In fact, speaking of things you need, you're almost out of bread, eggs are running low, I noticed the other night that there's hardly any laundry detergent left, and I'm sure you can think of a few more items." He pulled off her blindfold and gag. "Make a complete list, and go get them." he paused to think. "And wear the pocket skirt." (Pocket skirt was the one he'd given her on her birthday. They had shorthand nicknames for most of their toys that didn't innately have to do with sex.)

He strolled to the couch and picked up a book off the lampstand. "I'll need to inspect you before you leave," he said as she headed down the hall. 

Ten minutes later she stood before him wearing the deep-pocketed skirt and a plain light blue shirt. She held out the list for his inspection. He took the list and circled her while he looked it over.

"Bread, eggs, laundry detergent, so far so good. Sliced turkey, zucchini, prepared pie crust - is someone planning a pie?"

"Pecan. Henry's favorite."

"Mmmm," he stroked her cheek. "Such a good mum." He traced his index finger down the line of her throat. "And yet so utterly filthy." The line continued down between her breasts, over her belly, and finally between her legs where he pressed in only enough for Emma to feel the hint of him over her skirt. "You're a very _layered_ woman, Swan." He moved around to the back of her and slid his hand into her pocket. "You're wearing panties."

Her breath hitched. "You didn't mention -"

"No, I forgot," he said with a sigh as he spun her body around and sunk to his knees, hiking up her skirt along the way. "This one's my fault, love." He used his hook to remove the offending panties, grabbing them from the middle instead of the side so that the curve of his hook made fleeting contact with the sensitive flesh just above her clit.

She whimpered and tried not to roll her hips into the contact. Then to her surprise, his firm tongue swept through her whole center, ending in a series of sucking kisses just above before taking another lap through, this time a bit softer. 

"Payment for my mistake," he murmured as he rose to his feet, holding her body close against his. "A gentleman knows when he's owing," he whispered against her slightly parted lips. Without moving away from her, he fished the Bluetooth out of his back pocket and situated it in her ear. "Hamilton's grocery is about an eight minute drive from here. I'll be calling you in twelve to account for incidentals like a slow pedestrian. Do not enter the store until I call you."

She clutched the list in her hand, already imagining what might happen when she got to the store. 

His hand and hook respectively slid around to her ass. "You are allowed to ask for clarification, or to repeat myself without consequence," he dug into the flesh of her ass with commanding force. "But what question are you never, _never_ to ask?"

"Why," she rasped, pressed against his stunning lack of hardness - he possessed such discipline. It amazed her every time they played. "I'm not allowed to ask why."

"Because?" he asked as he began to steer her backward toward the door.

"Because toys don't need to know why."

"Precisely." They reached the coatrack. "Here's your purse," he slung the purse over her shoulder. "Grocery bags are in the car." He slammed her against the door with a long and punishing kiss. She practically toppled out when he reached around her and opened the door without warning. "Drive safe," he said casually, shutting the door behind him.

Emma had to twitch impatiently in her car for quite a few minutes before Killian's call came through. She answered fast enough to make a bullet seem lazy. 

The dark rumble of her owner's laugh came over the phone. "Always the eager one." He paused briefly before launching into the rules. "You're free to try for sparsely populated areas of the store, but you will not return to your car until you're close. And I mean _close._ As far as those around you will be concerned, you're simply having a chat with someone," he chuckled again. "Which is technically true, except this _someone_ is going to see to it that you're covered in sex by the time you reach the checkout line."

"Sure thing, will do," she replied, trying to sound casual as she entered the store.

He heard her shake a cart free of the stack and go on her way. 

"Get some where reasonably unpopulated and _handle yourself."_

She giggled. "Of course I haven't forgotten the bread, you like multi-grain, right? Great!"

Someone close enough for him to hear laughed as well. _"Sometimes we just have to make their minds for them, don't we?"_

"Yup, 'scuse me." The cart rattled as she pushed away hastily.

All the background noise disappeared and Killian figured she'd found herself an unoccupied aisle. He waited.

"We're on our way," she sighed. 

"How are you covering it?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" 

"Touching yourself there in an aisle. What does it look like?"

She sucked in a breath, and he could tell from the sound she was still going at it.

"Like I'm fishing for something in my pocket," she replied, a slight strain in her voice.

 _You are good at this,_ he thought. _I may really have to work at making things difficult._

"Go deeper," he ordered.

She pushed her whole hand through the slit in her pocket, crouched down, and took a large box of who cared what off the shelf. She pretended to read then label and angled the box low in her lap so she'd have a second to adjust herself before any potential intruder registered her 'kinda strange' posture. 

"Oh hell yes," she whispered more to herself than Killian. 

"Does your own hand make up for no cock, love? I know you have talented hands."

"No." 

Killian smiled wide enough to split his face in half. "Just a passable stand in, then?"

Emma's breath shallowed just slightly. "Mm-hm."

 _"Pardon me,"_ Killian heard another shopper say, _"I just need to get the - oh, thank you._

He waited out the intrusion. "I'd give you all the cock you wanted if you were here." He heard her cart trundle along.

"Yeah, I'll be home in a few minutes." She was back to sounding casual. Clearly not alone in the aisle.

"Oh, I'm not home," he purred. "I'm on my boat. S'why it took me a few extra minutes to call you. Decided to pop out here and imagine something _interesting_ for us. If you were with me now I'd have you right here in the steering room. Give you all the cock you want." He sighed. "I'm stroking myself, Swan," he murmured. "I'm so hard for you." He breathed a bit heavier than he needed to just to be sure she'd hear it. "I'd have you take me deep as you can - deep as your body could handle."

Shakier breathing. He heard her drop something in the cart and continue on. 

"So fucking deep you'd _beg._ Beg like my cock was the only thing worth asking for. Mine. No one else ever filled you like I do, did they my Shameless Princess?"

"No, not really." A flat-out warble. And a weak one at that.

_This is going along nicely._

"Sensed you like I do?"

"No."

"Made you need it like I do?

"No."

"Had you ever in your life begged for a man's cock like you do mine?"

A long breath. Something else dropped in the cart. "Not that I remember."

"Think carefully, Swan."

"No, just yours."

"My what?" He waited. Nothing but heavier breathing. "Whisper it for me, love."

"Your cock." The lowest whisper in the history of whispers.

 _This is even more fun than the bloody Library! We'll be doing this more often,_ he promised himself.

"And what makes it so worth begging for?"

She was back to a normal tone - but he could tell she was struggling (hard) to maintain it. "Uh . . . "

_How will you describe this with people around? What will you come up with . . . ?_

"Um . . .well you want to have something with enough depth."

He heard the cart moving again. Not far. Someone's voice came close, then moved away, barely audible over the phone.

"And you want the right thrust, too. Something responsive . . . and adaptable." She forced a chuckle.

"Well done, Swan," he said as though handing her a trophy. "High marks for cleverness." He paused and moaned into the phone. "I took myself out just now while you were saying those things," he gasped. "I'm stroking myself as we speak. I love the always want more. The way nothing breaks you? I love fucking you senseless. I - ah!" He cried out. "I love when you're a whore for me."

She bit back a whimper.

"Mmmmm," he moaned. "I can feel you tight around me, Emma.

A full-on, unrestrained whimper. Something else dropped in the cart.

"I love you best when you're desperate. Soaking. I could have out on the deck, or bent over a chair . . . "

Her breathing went ragged.

He stroked himself furiously. "I've thought of every possible way I could take you on this boat." Killian heard someone draw very close, but he went on without sympathy. "Good, how I'd take care of you!" He could hear three or four people nearby. "Like never before. Maybe even with the blindfold and gag you were so keen on earlier."

 _The place must be getting crowded,_ he thought when she made no response. 

"You _behave_ for the rest of this part of the game Emma, and I'll be nice afterward. When you're here on the boat." He paused to make her listen to him moan without restraint, mocking the fact that she couldn't do the same. "What would you want on your clit first, Emma? My hand or my tongue?"

She swallowed heavily and whispered, "T-tongue."

"You can move to another aisle if you want, dear one, I'm sure there's one less crowded."

"Not sure I should walk right now," she replied so quietly he had to struggle to understand her.

The mental image made his cock twitch and his body ache. The Savior. The strongest, most powerful woman in Storybrook clinging to a shopping cart, out in plain view, too lust-weakened to move.

Killian grit his teeth and held himself tight enough to stave off orgasm. "And then my hand?"

"Yes!"

The background voices dissipated down to just one.

"Mmmm. I can see you here Emma. On your back, on the deck. Still dressed exactly as you are now but spread wide for me and fucking _shaking._ I make you wait awhile before giving your clit my full attention." He signed deeply. "You're so damn wet it's obscene - oooooohhhhhh how I love the way you writhe when I lick you - walk. Now. I don't care if it's just a few feet, fucking do it!" He was sure she hated him for the command, but she obeyed. "Goooooood. Very good. You writhe so much I have to hold your hips in place just to keep at it. I think you half-cum every time."

"Yeah," she said in a ragged whisper.

"Do you want to?"

"Yes!"

Killian could tell she was doing her best to sound just generally annoyed with someone. He slowed his stroke. "Alright, I'll let you cum when you get to the car. Meantime, I've got you held down while my tongue presses in on your clit, tracing those small circles I know you love. I've got all my attention between your legs but I can hear you clawing at the deck . . ." he paused to enjoy the almost inaudible sound of her suffering. "Humans shouldn't even be _able_ to make the noises you do. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ." he smiled, imagining her clutching the shopping cart for dear life. _Aaaaaaand we're ready._ "You may check out and leave the store."

"Thank you!"

It took over two minutes for Emma to get to the front of the line, and Killian kept their scene going through every second of the wait. He gasped and groaned without restraint, keeping just enough control to narrate their scene. "I nearly drown while I'm there Swan. You're a _flood!_ Some cruel bastard must have kept you waiting far too long to have you in such a state."

Emma suppressed a growl.

"I could demand anything in trade for getting you off that way and you'd give it to me."

Killian smiled again at the mental image of her standing in line with people on either side of her, completely clueless what a fucking brilliant sex-slicked whore stood between them. He was determined not to stop the scene for a single second. "Mmmmmm, but this time I take pity. First I start brushing up and down. Then I mix it up a bit. Mooooooove arooooouuuund. See what makes you squirm even more than you already are." 

He chuckled. "It's not always the same moves as last time with a woman, a lot of men get that wrong. But lucky you, Swan. You've got a man who knows what he's doing." He drew a series of unsteady breaths. "When I find what works, I do it until you're thrusting against my tongue. Completely crazy. Then I flick my tongue over you. Quickly. Over and over again. Ceaseless."

He could actually feel her become absolutely _desperate._

"Run my tongue all through you. Dive inside for a quick taste a few times, then back to your clit. I do that until all those wonderful sounds you make are _deafening._ Creatures a thousand feet deep in the Ocean can hear you!" He forced himself to pause and slow his stroke again to keep from ruining the game. _She has to be in AGONY for me._ "Oh, love," he sighed, "the taste and sound of you make my cock throb so hard to be inside, it's all I can do to stay patient, but-" He only half succeeded at biting back a shallow moan. "I have to, because I believe you were promised the service of my hand as well, yes?"

"I love you," she rasped.

"I'll take that as a yes. Anyway, my hand. I let go of your hips and they go mad when I rub you. Softly. My tongue is freed up, so I kiss my way up your body I know how much you love a good solid bite anywhere with flesh enough to take it, so I give you that as well." 

_"Are you okay?"_ Killian heard the check out guy ask. _"You look a little . . . "_

"Oh! No, I'm fine. Just a little stressed." She lowered her voice. "Really, really stressed."

_"One of those days huh? Bummer."_

"Yeah, but I can take it."

Emma had never been so glad her car was a bright yellow bug. Easy to spot. She loaded her groceries in record time, got in, and slid the seat as far back as it would go. Just in case she needed the legroom.

"Have we settled in, love?"

Emma looked around. There was no one parked near her, but she drove out to the edge of the lot just in case.

Killian heard her engine shut off, and her keys jangle as she took them out of the ignition.

"Get your hands in your pockets - don't touch yourself, just get yourself arranged."

She did as ordered and leaned back with a sigh to let him know she was ready.

"Tell me how much you wish to touch yourself."

"So bad," she panted. "I'm shaking, Killian, it's too much!"

"Excuse me!?!" he barked. "What happened to 'I can take anything'?" That's exactly what you told that man in the store, and I make it a point to punish bloody liars, Swan."

She whimpered. He had a strong talent for devising creative punishments.

"So I guess we'll be adding that to your list of obligations for the day. Anyhow, back in topic. Tell me _why_ you're so frantic to pleasure yourself?"

"I wanna get off!" she shouted, practically gulping down every breath. "So, so tucking much!

"Nnnnnnnot really what I was getting at," he purred. "I meant what has you in such an urgent state?"

"The way you torture me," she practically screamed, glad to be free of the need for quiet. "The way you use me is always _perfect,_ I'm so fucking grateful to take it!"

"Give yourself whatever you need," he said softly.

Her hands flew between her thighs the second she got his permission.

Her strangled moan and subsequent shrill, eager cries made Killian's cock swell dangerously close to the point of no return. He silently ordered himself not to cum.

"We're already well along, both naked," he began, pleased to hear her sigh of relief and anticipation. "So I lean you up against the outside wall of the steering room-it's at quite an angle, you see. Perfect for reclining. Then I hoist you up by your knees, and spread you wide open. You're holding onto my shoulders. I can't wait. My cock has been waiting so long, every part of me aches for you. All I want is to be in your heat, so I slide you down the wall nice and slow. When you take me in, it's - aaaaah - ah, God!" He drew a shallow breath. "It's Like my cock was meant to pleasure you. Can you feel me, Emma?"

She made no reply except a series of mewling cries. 

Killian couldn't resist stroking himself faster. He imagined Emma's body writhing in her car, thrusting finger deep into herself without restraint. "Are you glad to have me inside you?"

Again no reply but a quaking moan.

"And how shall I take you?"

"Wh-wha-huuuuu, oh God-what do you-"

"Do you need to be plundered like treasure, or shall I take my time? Rock nice and slow-"

"Treasure!" She growled, "that one! I'm so - I'm so - oooooooohhhhh I need -"

Killian heard her body clattering in the car.

"I wanna cum," she panted frantically. "Can I? Can I cum now?"

 _Perfect timing!_ Killian was sure he'd have needed superhuman strength to hold out another second. He spoke rapidly, his words rushed and muddled. "I'm stroking your clit and thrusting inside you, and you're flushed, you're gasping, you're yelling my name, crying out for cock, you want me deeper, and deeper, it's bloody impossible but-" It took all of Killian's discipline to even attempt to keep talking. "I've never felt you so tight as this, you're a miracle, ferocious, Swan! I-ah! Ah!" He growled and listened to the phenomenal racket in Emma's car, a flood of what might have been words pouring from her mouth along with the unmistakable sounds of someone hurtling through a longed for release. _Mine,_ he thought as he allowed himself to to cum, dizzy with relief. 

He listened to the sound of Emma riding out the last beautiful shivers of orgasm before cleaning himself off. Then there was nothing but the sound of breathing on her end for quite a while. "Something on your mind, Princess?"

"We should keep that receipt as a certificate of achievement," she said with a tired giggle.

Killian laughed. _She never runs out of brilliant ideas._ He only let himself enjoy the amusement for a second before getting back to business. "Get your ass to the docks, you know which boat is mine. Be ready to pay for the lie you told."

He hung up.

Emma put herself back in order. She put the seat fully up, pulled her hair back, and waited for blush of sex to fade a little. She spent the entire drive to the docks wondering what awaited her.

He was sitting in the steering room when she arrived.

"Get in here," he ordered, his tone cold as a glacial freeze. When she got to the entrance he stood and motioned for her to sit in the chair. "Hands behind your back, wrists crossed.

She heard the sound of masking tape being ripped and he bound her hands then taped her to the chair at her waist.

"This is not the punishment," he informed her. "I'm just taking us far enough from shore that no one sees you utterly _humiliated."_ He turned his attention to steering the boat and ignored her all together until he decided they were far enough out. Then he cut the engine drug their toybox out from behind Emma's seat. Rather than open it, he left the room and returned with a small, slightly curved knife. He grabbed the collar of her shirt and cut it to three or four inches down, then set the knife aside in favor or ripping it the rest of the way, cutting again when he reached the masking tape around her waist. When he went around to her hands, he only cut the tape a quarter of the way down. "Do the rest of it yourself."

While Emma squirmed and struggled, Killian looked through both their Toy Box _and_ Clothes Box, deep in thought. She started to get wet. By the time she got herself free he had his choices assembled.

From the Clothes Box a lace-up corset, satin elbow-length gloves, garter belt, no panties, and thigh high lace stockings, no panties. All white.

"I know I'm usually partial to black or red on you. Sometimes that soft girly pink just for humor's sake. But this deck is constantly trod over with muddy boots, fairly tough to keep entirely clean - and I want to see how _filthy_ I can get you."

From the Toy box, two white satin cloths. (Multi-purpose toys. Blindfold/gag/binding.)

"Put the clothes on and crawl to me." He left the steering room.

She got excited as she heard the sound of chain dragging along the deck. _Is it for me or is he just moving things out of the way?_ When she crawled out of the steering room she was greeted by the sight of Hook fiddling with a length of chain that was affixed to the railing. She approached and waited patiently for something to happen. 

"Anchor chain," he explained as he wrapped it around her waist. "I like to keep a few spares on hand just in case. You're lucky this isn't a terribly large vessel, or it would be much thicker." He looped it around her three times before padlocking it in place. He grabbed her by the ponytail and crushed her into a fierce kiss when he was done. "You are to crawl the circumference of this boat for as long as you can stand it. If you last less than ten minutes, I'll still give you cock one way or another, but the game ends when we return to land. Last longer, and the game continues. I'll announce each minute. Do keep in mind how hard I cum when I know you've pushed yourself." He stood up. "Oh! And if I wish you to change direction, I'll yank the chain. Off you go now."

Brilliant, Emma thought with a shudder as she set off. Halfway through her first lap the grime built up on the chain was already starting to rub off on her corset. Every time Emma looked at her midsection, Hook's words played in her head. 

_"I want to see how filthy I can get you."_

Her knees felt okay at the one, two, and three minute marks - a slight soreness, but nothing compared to the kind of thing she often took when they played. Four through seven the pain escalated, and the lace of her thigh highs was starting to rub her knees enough to cause a sharp sting with each step. Eight through ten she slowed and began to really have to _challenge_ herself to keep going. She winced whenever Hook yanked the chain and she had to turn around. 

"Ten!"

 _More, more, more!_ Emma ordered herself. _Two more at least!_ She made it to three and a half before collapsing to the ground and rolling onto her back. "That's it, Hook," she panted. "That's all I can take. If I . . . " she rallied her breath, "if I ever deserve this again, I'll . . . I'll try for another two minutes. Promise."

"Mmmm," he mused as he knelt at her side. "See how good you did for me?" He picked up her hand and pressed it to his groin. "You should always be proud when you get me this hard." 

Emma massaged his clothed cock and sighed happily as he traced his hook over the generous swell of her corseted breasts.

"So pristine," he murmured. "We'll have to change that before we get home, won't we? Yes I think so. But for now . . . " He took her hand off his cock and gave her a small key. "Get yourself out of the chains then lie back and spread your legs, knees up, feet on the floor."

She arranged herself as ordered, and he sat on his haunches between her legs, stroking and caressing her calves. "You did so well," he sighed as he peppered the angry flesh of her knees with delicate kisses. He shimmied far enough forward to scoot her ass up the slope of his knees, spreading her thighs and angling her so that he had a perfect view of how much she loved his ownership. 

It used to baffle him how being pushed to such an extremes could be erotic, but ever since he started (occasionally) yielding to her, it made sense. He'd experienced firsthand the pride of correct submission, and thrill of being rewarded for obedience.

"So well," he repeated as he ran his middle and index fingers lazily back and forth through the length of her center. "You impress me every time, Swan." He arranged himself in a comfortable position to lick her attention starved clit, and went to work. He chuckled against her pink flesh when she bucked into his mouth the moment he made contact, sweeping his tongue over her in the same back and forth manner as his fingers. 

The pattern both soothed and aroused her, and her body quickly settled into the attention. When he had her thighs shaking and her every breath a ragged whine he drove three fingers into her, thrusting a few times before he stopped and reared up, at the same time using his hook to grab the lacing of her corset. He jerked her forward so she slid up the slant of his lap, landing in a straddle, and rocked his hips so his still trapped hardness nudged teasingly at her entrance. Then without warning he bit down all over the flawless flesh spilling out of her corset.

Emma cried and shivered each time he delivered a new mark. The delicious sting always drove her wild. A dozen fresh waves of heat tore through her as Her core tightened, mourning the absence of cock. 

_When, when, WHEN?_ She wondered as he went on rubbing himself into her clit. _Those pants have gotta be killing him!_

Just as if he'd read her mind, he suddenly shoved her off his lap as if she'd actually caught fire. "Lay down," he said, his voice dark and quiet. He the two white satin clothes from his back pocket. "Blindfold. Gag. Just as you wished."

"What do I have to do?" Emma asked, certain her wish would need to be purchased. 

Hook looked at her with a powerfully smug expression and rose to his feet. He tore open his pants and got himself out. "Get on your knees and suck until I say you're done."

Emma whimpered. Her knees were just starting to calm down, but she always loved not being able to see what Hook was about to do _so much,_ that she sometimes came while listening him get ready to . . . ? ? ? _And that's the exciting part._

Perks had to be earned. 

She winced and sucked in a sharp breath as she rose to her knees. 

Hook groaned. "Oh God," he breathed. "The things you do!" His cock ached to be in her mouth. He didn't have to wait long. Her lips came around him and formed a tight seal while she worked his base with her hand. His hips began to buck instinctively as she swirled her tongue around and around his weeping tip. "Ah! Aaaaaanhhh, so bloody perfect!" He let her do her own thing for a while before he growled, "take it!" A command she knew well. She released her suction and loosened her jaw to accommodate his girthsome cock. Taking him this way took so much of her focus that the pain in her knees became a full throb. 

He threw his head back and gasped as he thrust into her mouth just barely gentle enough to avoid choking her. From what he understood (thank you, internet) some couples like them actually enjoyed doing that, but it was one of the few things neither one of them were inclined to play with. It only ever happened by accident, or when Emma decided she wanted to see if maybe she _could_ take a teeny bit more. 

She struggled to swallow as salty pre-cum filled her mouth and cock hit the back of her throat at a challenging pace. She knew she was particularly skilled in this sort of thing. That a less talented woman would be rendered a slobbering spectacle of ineptitude under such high expectations. She took him and took him and took him, the sound of her name being cried out so frantically providing all the motivation she needed to keep going. She had no clue how long she'd been at it when he yanked her head back by her hair and she found herself look up at the face of a flushed and breathless man.

 _I ROCK!_ She gave him a wobbly smile. 

"There truly is no greater cock whore in all the world, Swan," he panted. "Alright, you can have your blindfold and gag." He bent down and tied on the gag first, then secured the blindfold, testing it to make sure it would hold in place. "On your back. Legs spread just as before."

She wobbled a bit on her way down, but otherwise easily got herself displayed as ordered. He could hear him walking slow circles around her body, occasionally adjusting her thighs with his foot.

"Perfect," he eventually purred, and the sound of him undoing his belt made her wish like hell she were allowed to use her legs to pull him down on top of her. He tossed the belt somewhere to her left. Pants and (she assumed) underwear as well. "That clit's gotten attention enough, I think," he mused to himself, his voice drawing close enough to let Emma know he was crouched between her legs. Shirt joined the pants and belt. "So what to do? . . . . I could cum _on you,_ and make you wait until we get home for a proper fucking . . . ."

She heard him shifting around and tried not to squirm with the anticipation of whatever came next.

He slowly peeled off her stockings. "Sit up and give me your hands."

She felt the material wrap around her wrists and pull tight.

"Back down."

She felt him lean over her body and lift her legs over his shoulders, his length sliding against her clit as he moved. She couldn't suppress a hungry whine. 

"Hm . . . . now . . . . do I cum on this nice white corset? Or -" he buried himself in her, eliciting a muffled scream. "Seems - that - was -" Hook spoke each word in between unrestrained thrusts "the right - call!"

Emma whimpered and nodded enthusiastically, her jaw pulsing around the gag.

"Do you think -" he surged forward and stilled inside her, her walls tight and shuddering around him. "Do you think -" he repeated in a breathless whisper, "you could take me . . . . deeper?"

She spread her thighs so far apart she thought she'd break, her legs slipping halfway down Hook's arms.

He adjusted himself, seeking the best angle to reach the absolute limit of her depths. He spent a few seconds enjoying the sight of her beautifully marked-up chest heaving before he drove him to her with all the force he could muster. Not one cell of his shaft was left outside her needy core.

Her muffled cries made him throb as he went on filling her to the greatest extent possible, her muffled cries making him throb with wild lust.

"Amazing!" He shouted. "Amazing! Brilliant!" His breath went ragged as he watched her face clench and her back arch. In the same moment, he felt her sex tighten around him and release a sudden new burst of wet arousal. _"Ohohohoh,!"_ He warbled, picking up his pace. Her muscles seemed desperate to keep up as they rippled and clenched around him. _Cumming like a mad thing!_

He always loved it when he drove her to this. An orgasm to make all others hide in shame. He let the world fade to black and his cock release inside her. Pleasure consumed every cell of his body as he thrust and shuddered to the end, her body already spent by the time the last wave wracked through him. 

She felt him collapse onto her body, and the heat of his breath next to her ear. They remained still and silent for several minutes before Hook hoisted himself to his feet. 

"Well taken, Swan." He said casually as he got dressed. "Quite well taken." After he had all his clothes back on, he untied her wrists. "Remove the gag and blindfold and join me in the steering room."

He walked away and she removed the blindfold as she got to her feet. Her whole body shook as she walked into the steering room, fucked-out and unsteady. 

"Here," Hook lifted her onto the small table. "We'll tend to those knees and then you'll get back in your normal clothes."

"Is there a particular shirt you want me to wear?" she asked as he wet cotton ball with iodine.

Hook considered the question as he cleaned her red, scraped knees. "Church Whore," he decided. "With this corset underneath. See?" He fetched his smartphone from the table and took a pic of her back. "It's completely filthy." He showed her the picture. 

She chuckled. "Yup. I like it. Church Whore plus fuck-dirt."

"Exactly." He kissed her softly and pressed a wide band aid to her knee.

They headed for the docks, and Emma wondered if Hook had more games planned, or if they were done for the day. As per his rules this time around, she was _technically_ allowed to ask, but she preferred the suspense.


	5. Hook's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Hook wants to be owned, and Emma always STEPS UP.

The urge to submit only hit him a great once in a while, but when it did it hit in a _big way._ He was just glad the first time they tried it that Emma ended up enjoying the role-flip. It would have been awfully frustrating to have no option but quietly waiting for the urge to pass.

He knew he wanted to do it when the two of them were on a random stroll around the lake and nearly ran into a pair of women going the opposite direction. Both they and he and Emma were too embroiled in conversation to notice each other, and avoided a collision by merely a hair. 

"Sorry!" one of the women said immediately. "I was busy bitching to my sister about stuff and I didn't see you!"

"Oh no," Killian insisted with a slight bow. "We failed to notice you as well, and haven't the good excuse."

"Yeah," Emma laughed. "Bitching takes serious focus."

"Ugh, but it was stupid stuff. My and I went out to diner the other night and it took him _fifteen minutes_ to decide what he wanted."

Her sister smiled. "My advice was give him till the five minute mark then flat out tell him what he's ordering."

BAM! Out of nowhere (as usual). He wanted nothing more than for Emma to take him over for the day. Always the quick thinker, he came up with a way to cue her right then and there. He smiled at the Bitching Sister. "I'm on her side, some men must simply be _told_ how to behave." He shrugged. "Who knows, you may find him amenable to taking orders."

He could _feel_ Emma getting the hint without even looking at her.

The other sister grinned at him as they moved past one another. "Thank you for taking my side!"

He and Emma stood looking at one another waiting for the sisters to be out of earshot. 

_"See? Take the man's advice, please, your husband needs the help!"_

"Follow," said Emma before turning on her heel and heading back toward the car. 

Killian was proficient with driving by then, but he was so used to being a passenger he often reached for the passenger side door even when he was going someplace on his own.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Emma growled as soon as his hand touched the passenger door. "Do you think I wanna drive on top of all the fucking work I'm gonna have to do today?"

Killian cast his gaze downward. "I apologize." 

Emma put her hands on her hips and looked him over for a few seconds. "Walk around the lake by yourself three times then come back and we'll try this again. Do not run. Walk." She opened the passenger door, got in, and took a book out of her purse, which was hidden under the seat. 

Killian nodded and went on his way, half lost in fantasy and wishing like hell she hadn't told him not to run. If not for that order he'd have made it back to the car before she could blink. When he did slide into the driver's seat, she threw the keys at him. "Pants open. Take the scenic route home." He of course did as told. 

She decided to finish the chapter before laying a hand on him. 

Come on, come oooooooon, Killian thought ceaselessly as he drove. He didn't realize he was drumming his fingers on the wheel until Emma spoke up.

"Do you know how annoying that is?" She waved the book at him. "I'm trying to focus."

He clenched his jaw and gripped the wheel as hard as he could. His started to race when Emma closed the book and dropped it back in her purse. She looked straight ahead and casually slid her hand into his pants and rubbed him over his boxer briefs. He sighed at the contact and his cock instantly grew against her warm hand. 

_"Really?_ That quick?" She scoffed. "Pathetic. You had better not cum and cheat me out of any fun, or I will hurt the fuck out of you!"

He shook his head vigorously. "I won't. I promise."

"Good," she chirped sweetly, and went on massaging his cock. 

He had never been more thankful that traffic through town was never too bad. No only would it take longer to get home in heavy traffic, but he was struggling so hard to keep his mind on driving, he'd probably have caused a massive wreck. 

She removed her hand when they arrived home. "Get in the house, put on your Personal Property shirt, and leash and collar. Then take our Toybox to the kitchen counter and sit down on the kitchen floor. I'll be in in five minutes."

Killian had himself arranged as ordered in record time. When Emma did come in, he swelled with pride as she beamed down at him. 

"Perfect," she said, then grabbed his leash and yanked. He took the cue and crawled where she led. "Sit!" She snapped her fingers and pointed to a spot against the cupboards. "And cross your wrists." She wrapped them with masking tape, then secured the leash to a drawer handle by his right shoulder. "Lie down, feet facing that way." She pointed to the corner of the room. 

When Killian laid down, she fetched serrated knife from one of the drawers and set it well beyond the reach of his feet. "Get that knife and use it to cut the tape. You're allowed to use anything in the cupboards and drawers for help, but _do not_ pull this drawer all the way out." She indicated the drawer he was leashed to. "If this drawer falls on the floor? Five minutes with the crop and you're taped up in the closet until I feel like using you some more."

She stepped away from him and Killian went to work instantly. Rather than watching him, Emma walked away and he could tell by the sound that she was headed down the hall. He didn't try to listen for more 'clues' at to what she might be doing. He needed to put all his energy into reaching the knife. She'd tied off the leash so that he only had a enough give to scoot halfway to it, even with the drawer opened as far as he dared. He tried his hardest to close the distance, but it was obviously a lost cause without some help. He was just pulling himself back to sitting position when Emma returned to the room. He nearly fell over again at the sight of her. 

One of his old black pirate shirts, and he could just see a _hint_ of red silk panties. No stockings, no shoes. 

_God, I hope she lets me tear those panties off her when I get free. Please let that be the plan!_

She smiled as he went about kicking open drawers and taking mental inventory of what was available for possible use. 

_She's pleased,_ he thought. _I feel amazing!_

As with her rubbing him, the sight of her wearing one of his personal favorites got him rock hard, only this time he was trapped in his pants. 

"That looks like it might get painful," Emma chuckled as she headed for an unopened bottle of wine on the counter. She poured herself a glass and leaned against the counter, thoroughly amused. "Clever," she purred when Killian found a decent length of cheesecloth in the top drawer to his left and twisted it up into "rope," then tied it to the handle of a small pot he'd managed to kick out of a drawer he could just barely reach. 

He looked up at her - something he'd been trying not to do because every time he did it made his cock strain against his pants. "My I take off my shoes?" 

"Hmmmmm," Emma mused as she took a long sip of her wine. "Lay down again."

She sunk down and straddled him once he was in position, setting the wine glass down beside them.

_Do not cum!_

She slowly pushed up his shirt, her hands flat against his skin. He lifted his arms out of the way as she leaned forward to push the shirt all the way above his chest so the material rested at his collarbone, and began tracing the tip of her tongue all over him.

_DO NOT CUM!_

Without warning, she bit down with savage force.

He bucked and cried out.

Emma lifted her head and glared at him. "You're going to get a lot of these and I don't want to hear another sound. _Then_ you can take your shoes off." She delivered the second bite without waiting for a response. 

Killian writhed and bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from screaming while she marked him. Every punishing bite followed by sucking until his flesh throbbed. By the time she was finished a thin sheen of sweat had appeared on his forehead. 

"Did that feel good?" she asked, her voice low and husky. 

"Yes," he panted. "Yes."

She retrieved her glass of wine and stood up. "Alright you can take off your shoes."

He tossed off his shoes and secured the other end of his cheesecloth rope to the slenderest part of his foot, then got to work tossing the pot open side down in the direction of the knife while at the same time straightening his leg out for maximum distance.

Emma applauded whenever he got close. 

It took him a lot of trial and error to figure out the right force to keep the pot from landing too far short or too far up to trap the knife. Finally, he snagged the handle, and while his instinct (and cock) couldn't _desperately_ wanted to yank the thing toward him at top speed, his common sense knew he'd risk the pot wobbling off the knife's handle. So he reeled it in slow and steady, not lunging for it until it came within arm's reach.

"Yes!" He cried out as he hobbled back to prop himself against the drawers.

 _Okaaaaaay . . ._ he thought as he tried to figure out how to approach the next part of his task. 

He had to, first: keep the knife in hand. Second: angle it against the tape. And three: saw with enough pressure to cut - or at least wear down - the tape. By the third time he dropped the knife Emma had finished her wine. 

"This could get boring," she sighed. "I'm going to bake a cake." She promptly ignored him in favor of mixing up a cake batter. Though not much of a domestic type, when Emma made food, she almost always made it from scratch. _If you don't feel like cooking from scratch, get take out or go to a damn restaurant._ Was her feeling. 

She occasionally glanced at Killian, who'd finally managed to the knife against the tape enough to start fraying its tough fibers. 

She decided on chocolate cake, and when the batter was assembled she dipped her whole finger in for a generous taste. "Mmmm," she moaned. "That is almost good enough to make me redundant."

Killian really wished he hadn't heard that. He was pretty sure in another five minutes he'd have the tape cut down enough to wiggle and tug his hands free, and Emma making semi-orgasmic noises did not help his concentration. Suddenly she was crouched in front of him, her finger covered in cake batter. 

"Taste this." Her voice was sex personified.

Killian obeyed, his cock twitching at the feel if her finger sliding out of her mouth. Before he could return his focus to the tape and knife she followed her finger with her tongue, her head angled sideways to get maximum depth. As per the rules, he completely slacked his jaw and let her do as she pleased. 

"Emma," he whispered when she pulled away and went back to her baking. He took a moment together his senses and get back to work.

"I think you're getting close," she said with a backward glance. "You better be." She fetched a sheet cake pan from the cupboard next to her. "I'm a liiiiiiittle impatient right now."

He groaned.

She slid the cake in the oven, turned to face him, and leaned against the counter with her hips angled in a way that exposed more of her read panties. She chuckled. "Am I mean enough? You do such a good job for me, I don't wanna sell you short."

"So mean," he gasped, his heart fluttering every time the knife severed another fiber of tape. 

She rocked her hips back and forth as if dancing to the rhythm of her own thoughts. "The way you command me . . ."

_How can she drop her voice so low and still sound so bloody feminine?_

"Mark me . . . " she sighed. "Make me _work_ for you -" she suddenly switched gears. "Damm that cake smells good, doesn't it?"

Killian gulped and nodded. 

Her eyes darkened again as she down on all fours, and Killian realized he'd stopped sawing at the tape. A mistake he corrected at once. 

"I'm usually on your shoes, so I need to know if I'm doing it right. If I'm brutal enough." She paused, but he was so busy with the masking tape, he failed to realize the question wasn't rhetorical. "SPEAK UP!" She barked. 

Killian's body jerked, but he didn't stop working at the tape when he replied. "Yes! So bloody cruel, every bit as much as me! The only reason I'm - I'm n - n - not losing my m-mind right now -" he paused to take several deep, calming breaths, "is that I know what I'm working for."

"Which is . . . ?" Emma crawled closer to him.

"The right to get you off." he rasped, silently begging any and every God in the Universe to help him break free of the loathsome tape. "You won't let me if I don't behave."

"Damn right I won't." She reared up on her knees and carefully inspected his progress. "So close. I'm gonna go ahead and -" she pulled his pirate shirt up just enough to slip a hand inside her panties. Her other hand went under the shirt to explore the flesh beneath. She moaned and gasped as she pleasured herself at a relaxed, languid pace. "Oh!" She gasped. "Killian, if you're not touching me in the next three minutes I'm doing it myself!"

 _Unacceptable!_ He thought, wiggling his wrists. There was a decent amount if give in the tape, so he dropped the knife and began to thrash and pull like an animal caught in a trap, trying not to panic as the seconds ticked by. 

She bot his earlobe and admired the prominent mark for a moment before running her tongue over it to sooth the sting. "I'm getting on you the second it's out," she purred as she pulled his zipper down. "Whether your hands are free or not." His boxer briefs required only a slight tug to free the rigid, eager cock beneath.

Killian coiled his arms close to his chest to accommodate her mounting him, doing exactly as she'd promised. He grit his teeth and fought against the tape with all his might, finally winning the battle just as Emma took on every inch of him with a pleasured shiver.

Emma could tell by his pained yet lustful moan that it was taking all his restraint not to cum.

_I am at good at this as he is!_

She wasn't lying about what she'd said before. Not just making lascivious small talk for the sake of the game. He set a high standard for himself as a creative, merciless ruler because he knew that being driven to the precarious edge of her own endurance was exactly what she loved about submitting. So on the rare Killian decided to be _The Toy,_ she wanted to treat him in kind. To make sure a day of being played with - both in active sex and 'assigned work' such as the kitchen challenge he'd just defeated, or sitting perfectly still in one spot until she decided he'd earned her body - left him aching, proud, and thoroughly impressed with himself. The trick to being an owner, she'd found, was balance. Walking riiiiiiight up to the line where Lemon _might_ be invoked, and choosing carefully when and how to gamble. 

She felt today's game was successful thus far.

"See what a good pet you've been?" She clutched his shoulders and sped up the roll of her hips. "So good."

Emma reached over to the drawer handle, untied his leash, and kissed him frantically as she wound much of it around her hand. Then she abruptly shoved him against the cupboards and dismounted.

"NO!" He shouted - a knee jerk impulse he immediately regretted. His eyes bulged in pure horror as soon as the word was out of his mouth. "I am so sorry!" He breathed, worried she may deny his cock its release for who knows how long. 

_And after all that work getting free! Idiot! he scolded himself._

Emma even acknowledge the apology. Instead she laid back, positioned Killian's leash between her legs, and yanked him down. "Right now all I care about is getting off," she said between grit teeth "but do it again you mouthy _thing,_ and I'll tape you to the drawer again."

_Oh thank God!_

"Thank you," he whispered before burying his tongue in her sex hoping he could make her cum hard enough to make up for the amateur - ish infraction. 

Emma cried out over and over again, one hand fisted in his hair while the other wound up more of the leash. "Ooooooh," she sighed, "oh, I love that tongue." She basked his the wealth of his talent for a long time. Even as fierce pleasure threatened to scorch her shaking body, she paid as much attention to Killian's body language as her addled state would allow. When she could tell he was too busy with his goal to be aware of anything else, she pulled the leash so hard his whole body lurched forward. 

He let out a garbled exclamation of surprise and scrambled to hold his balance so as not tumble down on her with the full weight of his body. That on top of his earlier objection would spell disaster in ten foot neon letters. 

Emma ignored his struggle for balance in favor of removing the collar. "Get your clothes off and fuck me." She ordered, sounding half-orgasmic but still authoritative.

She pulled off her own shirt while Killian undressed.

He threw aside his made quick work of the unzipped pants. He meant to be inside her before he drew his next breath, but froze in place when he realized there was something written on her torso in thick black sharpie. 

_'Get me off, win the tree.'_

It hit him almost as hard as being pulled by the leash. He groaned happily as he fell between her knees. "I love that place. You're so good to me."

"You really shouldn't be wasting your tongue on _talking_ right now, Killian." She somehow kept the strict edge in her voice despite its shallow tremor. She dug her nails into the flesh his of his back without restraint as he filled her, and felt herself beginning to ripple and tighten while he worked her clit, his body propped up on his hook arm.

 _Aren't you disciplined?_ she thought when she realized he was restraining himself from driving into her with his usual force. _He's waiting until he knows I'm close._

She wasn't wrong. 

He never offered himself for submission unless he was confident he could take it, and cumming first was against the law unless otherwise ordered. Killian believed in abiding expectation, at least when it came to sex. The game had trained him well. He couldn't imagine there was another man who could resist the selfish seduction of a desperate cock for so long. 

_It is beyond worth it to see this,_ he thought as he watched her cum, _to know I'm the one who made it happen, and all because she'd trusted me enough to share this fantasy in the first place._ He blocked out his desire to join her by focusing on the fact that every shudder, every thrash of her body was like a trophy engraved with the words _'Job Well Done, My Love.'_

He was stunned when she suddenly let go of his leash shoved him off of her.

"I came. Get yourself off." she commanded. "Use your shirt to clean up after, and put it back on." Emma got to her feet and sighed as she re-dressed in Killian's pirate shirt and her red panties. A broad smile took over her face when Killian put on his cum-stained shirt. "Pause," she chirped casually, pulling on a pair of oven mitts. 

"What?" he whined. "Whyyyyyyy?"

This was an element that had recently entered their gameplay. While the submitting party had no option but Lemon, to take what's dealt or stop the game entirely, the Owner could set aside and re-invoke the rules at any time. 

Emma shrugged. "You came, I came, and the cake smells good. I wanna enjoy a slice without worrying about what to do with your stupid cock."

Killian's posture sagged. "Well could you at least punish me for asking _why?"_

"Nope," she replied as she tested the cake with a toothpick. "Hmmm . . . I think another five minutes." She hopped up on the counter. "No punishment. I called pause, you can do it ask whatever you want." 

He pouted openly, at the same time feeling annoyed that he _could_ pout openly, which only made the pout worse. It was a vicious cycle.

Emma giggled. "I already know when I'm gonna restart. I'll tell you if you ask." She swung her legs back and forth like a precocious child perched on a step. 

At first he was determined not to give her the satisfaction. "If you need me I'll be in the bedroom reading a book." He left her in the kitchen in favor of historical non-fiction. (He was trying to learn the history of this realm.) His resolve lasted all of three minutes. He _needed_ to know when she'd have him under the next challenge. His whole body expected it.

_Sod the book, sod the damn pretense._

"Fine," he tried not to growl the word as he strode back into the kitchen. "Emma Swan, my _dearest_ one and only, when do you plan to un-pause us?"

"When I'm done eating my piece of cake - not when _you're_ done," she added hastily. "Me. So it won't matter how fast you eat piece. I mean, if you decide to have a piece." She shrugged. "Totally your call."

Killian knew the pause actually _was_ part of Emma's game because it was its own brand of torture. But in the meantime he had to sit around feeling unused. Almost lazy.

"Are you going to change into something else?" he asked. The right to ask questions was still bugging the shit out of him, but he figured as long as he couldn't change the fact, might as well go with it.

"Not until after I un-pause us." She took the cake out of the oven. "Wow, that smells good! Smell." She held the pan under Killian's nose.

_It really does smell amazing._

Emma cut herself a more than generous piece and held the knife out to him. It (depressingly) went without saying that whether or not to take it was up to him. Again, as long as he couldn't change the fact . . . 

She walked to the couch with a lively (mocking?) spring in her step and perched the plate of cake on her bare legs as she turned on the television. Her position revealed a teasing hint of red panties beneath his old pirate shirt, and it was all Killian could do keep himself in check.

"What are we watching?" He asked as he settled next to her.

"Pe-ur Pan," she answered through a mouthful of cake.

Peter Pan. The movie that infuriated him more than any other film in this realm. 

She found the animated abomination via one of the streaming services they had at their disposal, and clicked play. Killian shoveled a large forkful of cake into his mouth, determined not to give her the satisfaction of leaving the room.

Just as he knew she would, Emma ate her cake one tiny sliver at a time, clearly planning for it to last through the whole movie. Killian supposed he could return to the Civil War, but he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the text anyhow, and he truly did want to learn his new nation's history. 

Killian also couldn't resist bitching about the glaring inaccuracies playing out before him, even if it was only a cartoon. "I don't know where or how John M. Barrie got his information as far as names go, but it's - well look at me! I'm more like Blackbeard! I'm _clearly_ a cartoon Blackbeard, and even he wasn't this pitifully whiny!" He shook his hook at the screen. "It's just a hook, mate! Get over it! My quest for revenge was about LOVE!" He finished his cake, sat back, and tried not to stare at Emma as she watched the movie and nibbled.

When the end credits rolled, Emma still had cake left. 

Killian was just on the verge of whining again when a thought struck him, and he couldn't believe he didn't think of it sooner. He scooted next to Emma so that their bodies were touching, and ran his hook up and down her leg. 

"Love," he kissed her neck gently. No bite, no mark, just a kiss. "If the game is paused and I may do ad I choose . . ." More feathery kisses. "Then I can choose to make a normal advance, yes? As I would at any other time?"

Emma fought back a grin. _Clever, clever man!_ "You can make an advance."

His hook dipped between her legs and traveled upward. "Then game or no, I want you."

She blocked the hook from reaching its goal. "Good for you. I'm also 'allowed' to turn you down jackass. Y'know, like any other day."

"A Lady can always say no," he said as his head fell to her lap with a frustrated groan. His lips were half-pressed against her flesh, so the rest was muffled. "This is the worst thing you've ever done to me!"

Emma's brain did a happy dance. _If I could high five myself right now? I would._

She heaved him off of her and swung her legs up on the couch, took another tiny bit of cake, and scooted her body into prone position. "I'll meet you halfway." She pushed up the shirt, revealing the message she'd written earlier.

_'Get me off, win the tree.'_

"I'm turning down any _sexy contact_ with this, " she slid a hand over the crotch of her red panties. "Not even with toys. And I'm also not in the mood for kissing," she pointed to the plate on the coffee table. "Mouth otherwise occupied. But anything else is a yes."

Killian got up on his haunches between her calves and caressed her knees, considering his limited options. "May I push the shirt up farther?" he asked.

Emma shrugged as she took another bite of cake. "If I haven't specifically said no, you can do whatever you want."

 _You had to remind me,_ Killian mourned the freedom. _But I need something._ He watched her eat another paper thin bite of cake. _SOMETHING!_

He leaned forward and lifted her right leg to meet his mouth.

"That's nice," she whispered.

 _I'm not even working for it!_ he thought as he lavished attention over her wonderfully long legs. It was like being suspended between heaven and hell. _Please finish that fucking cake soon!_

He ran his lapped and kissed his way up her thighs, stopping far shy of her panties to ensure not so much as a hair on his head touched the red-clad treasure. Yes, only actual sexy contact had been refused, but he didn't want to risk the temptation to push his luck.

Killian knew she was enjoying his work because a quiet pleasured sound or tiny shiver of the hips occasionally betrayed her apathetic exterior.

He heard her fork clink against the plate several times, but forced himself not to look. Eventually he nudged her body over enough to lay on his side between her and the back of the couch, his head resting at a slant on her belly. He traced his hook over the writing there, feeling incredibly grateful that Emma had at least allowed him to cum before calling Pause. Otherwise hew felt certain he'd be in a state awful enough to consider Lemon. 

"Please tell me you plan to make good on this," he said with a deep breath as his hook ghosted over the T. Then the R. "I know it's not legally binding, but as long as I'm allowed to speak my mind I have a to tell you how I feel." He kissed the warm flesh of her midsection. "I want that tree," he traced over the word with a firmer touch. "I don't care what you make me do to earn it."

Emma sat bolt upright, empty plate in hand. "Unpause."

Killian groaned with relief and braced himself for some kind of command. 

"On all fours," she ordered as she took her plate to the kitchen.

His pulsed raced as he obeyed. 

"Be back in a minute." She trotted down the hallway and came back not long after wearing a baggy sweatshirt, an old pair of paint-stained jeans, and beat up old sneakers. The opposite of sexy. But when she looked at him her eyes lit up with the mental image of his near future whirling in her brain and the wicked vibe somehow seeped into her casual attire, making it incredibly sexy as far as Killian was concerned. 

"Wait for me in the car." she said as she rooted through their Toybox. 

The first thing she saw when she got outside was Killian sitting on in the driver's seat. She got in and placed a small picnic basket in her lap. "Let's go." 

His cock stirred somewhat to life at the thought of what might be in there. 

_A short drive and bit of a walk and you find out, mate. Eyes on the road._

Fifteen minutes later Emma was dragging Killian through the forest on a leash.

"Crawl the rest of the way," she ordered when they got close, detaching the leash from his collar and shoving him to the ground. "Take these, too." She took the handcuffs out of her picnic basket and dangled them in front of Killian's mouth. He took them between his teeth and set off, eager as hell to be cuffed to the trunk. "Stand up, shirt off," she said when they arrived.

Emma waited for him to arrange himself as ordered.

"Mmmmmm," she exhaled, running her hands over his bruise covered chest. "You're so pretty this way." She kissed and nuzzled at throat as she steered him into the tree trunk. "Behind," she whispered. 

He immediately reached his arms around the truck and waited to be secured in place, grateful as hell to _finally_ be back on play. 

She took the cuffs out of his mouth and sauntered lazily around the trunk. His hook hand provided no difficulty. They always just secured the cuff to the first bit of flesh below his hook sleeve. When she came back around she stepped away and silently enjoyed sight of her toy. 

Collared. 

Marked. 

Half hard. 

Without saying a word, she took off her ratty sweatshirt to reveal a black t shirt. Then she peeled off the t shirt to reveal a black tank top.

Killian's cock twitched with anticipation.

Instead of taking off the tank top she undid the top button of her jeans. These jeans were all buttons. No zipper. She paused and smiled as the bulge in Killian's pants grew bigger by the second, then chuckled as she undid the remaining three buttons.

_Black lace. I see black lace panties._

Naked lust flooded Emma's expression. "What should I take off first, Killian?" she purred. "Pants . . . top . . . ?

"Um . . . " he swallowed. It was a genuinely difficult choice. "The top." 

He thought he was prepared for anything. He knew it would be amazing, of course, but when she removed the shirt, it was devastating. Sure, it was only a plain white sports bra, but written across it were the words:

_'Cock Slut'_

His knees almost buckled. 

"I thought you'd like that," she said with a grin as she shimmied out if her shoes and pants. "You were so patient with the pause, I thought I'd give you a treat." The bra and panties stayed on, but she tossed aside the rest of her clothes. 

Emma approached is straining body and sighed against his mouth, tracing her lips over his. Her tongue darted out in the occasional tease as she undid his pants. When he was fully freed she pressed flush against him and stared straight into his eyes, her body completely still. She waited until she could _feel_ the desperation wafting off his body.

 _Friction. Please!_ he silently begged.

She slid and rolled her hips against the length of his hard-on while peppering his neck with kisses. She kept at it until he was a helpless whining creature, and the front of her panties were generously coated in pre-cum. 

"Oh!" he cried out when she stopped and reached down to the picnic basket.

"Don't worry, you'll like this," she assured him as she dangled a blindfold in front of his face. "Wanna have some real fun now?" She tied the thing over his eyes without waiting for a response.

"Oh," he mewled anyway, "oh yes, _yes!_

A half second later she crushed her mouth against his, fisting her hands in his hair to try and push him deeper. He surged into the kiss, his tongue determined to grant her unspoken request. 

_Deeper._

_Deeper._

It was rough and endless. That is, until it ended. She detached from the kiss and released his head with a forceful shove, then nuzzled his nose while he gasped for air. She didn't wait for him to fully recover before quietly dropping to her knees and breathing heavily on his cock, her lips millimeters away from his hyper sensitive flesh, 

"Ah!" he cried out. "Oh fuck you're brilliant!"

She yanked his pants down to his mid thigh.

He sucked in a sharp breath and waited for more, but nothing happened. If not for the hot breath torturing his cock, he wouldn't even know she was there. 

"I'm going to suck you for three minutes," she murmured. "I'm setting the timer on my phone right now. If you start to cum before the time's up I will stop and you'll be cleaning yourself off with your shirt again. Do you want more cum on your shirt, Killian?" 

He shook his head aggressively. "No!"

Emma chuckled. "Didn't think so. If you do make it, I'll un cuff you and let you cum inside me." She waited for a response, but got nothing. So she bit his thigh.

His whole body spasmed and he grit his teeth to keep from yelling out a string of obscenities. 

_When my Swan gets into the swing of things, she didn't hold back._

She stood up, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and pulled his head to one side. "I said," she growled, "I will let you cum inside me. And you say . . . "

Killian was against genuinely afraid his knees might give out. "Thank you," he whispered.

Emma sighed happily. "The three minutes starts now." 

He heard the beep of the timer starting, and before he could draw another breath he felt her lips slide over him. He didn't know whether to moan or die. His body begged for release while she stroked his length and her wet lips and tongue played delicate circles over the head of his pulsing cock. Only seconds in and every muscle in his body was taught, quaking with urgency. 

_I will not let her down!_ He promised himself, repeating the words in his head like a desperate mantra.

His head flung back, mouth open in a silent howl when Emma went from teasing him to truly sucking. This was a part he loved to watch. Her so focused. Head bobbing up and down. Tongue handling every inch of him with precise care. But she had him blinded this time, which left the whole picture up to his imagination. With every stroke and lick he wondered what it looked like.

 _Is she looking up at me with that shameless stare of hers? Or are her eyes closed so she can put all her focus on - ooooooohhhhhh, keep doing that!_ he thought as she ran the tip of her tongue up one side of his shaft, down the other, then tilted her head this way and that to suck and lap at the base of his girth.

He forced long, deep breaths into his lungs when he felt himself start to swell. _She wants you to finish inside her,_ he reminded himself. He gulped down air and shook with pride when he heard the timer go off. 

"I'm impressed," she said as she rose to he feet. "You almost lost it a few times." 

His cock pulsed in her hand as she stroked him with a light touch. 

"How did you manage to hold on, hm?"

"I couldn't fail," he panted, "my purpose is to please you."

"Any other particular purpose?"

Killian shook his head with fervor, as if the question itself was morally repugnant. "Not a single one. I'm useless without you!" He felt her move against him but couldn't figure out quite what she was doing until the smell of her sex came close to his face. 

_She's taken off the panties!_ For the millionth time since his three minute hell began, his cock almost betrayed him. 

She laughed, her voice low and cruel. "I've laid your shirt out on the ground, Killian. I don't care how great your cock is, I'm not getting my back dirty for the sake of a fuck." She bit his earlobe. "When I un-cuff you, you will hold still and keep that blindfold on until I say otherwise. We clear?"

"Absolutely," he warbled. He was genuinely surprised when he was able to hold his body upright without the aid of the cuffs. He listened to the sound of forest debris crunch beneath her feet. Only a few steps.

_Thank you, Emma!_

"Pants off, blindfold off, do your job. I assume you don't need it explained."

The blindfold was off and hurled aside before she finished the sentence.

This time he did go to his knees. She was a few steps away from him just as he'd guessed, propped up on her elbows, splayed out and waiting.

"That's a good look for you. Crawl over." She spread her legs wider and tilted her head back in anticipation of his cock. "Take your time with this part, she ordered once he was aligned with her entrance. "You know that's how I like it."

He nodded. "I as well." True on a normal day, but in this circumstance he hoped the effort didn't end up killing (or humiliating) him. He slid slowly into the warmth of her beyond ready sex, clenching his jaw as he went, every second fighting the urge to go mad and lose himself inside her. He buried himself to the hilt. "And what does the Lady require now?"

She laid down on her back and replied with the words Killian would have hated to hear an hour ago, "Whatever you want."

He burst with gratitude and relief from head to toe as he drove forward with the kind of animalistic force she usually appreciated when they played. Luckily, this game was no exception. He was certain that if she found his needy, unrestrained thrusting only a tolerable experience, he'd pay for it. Painfully. He was of course willing to take it, but guessing her needs correctly always made him feel like an especially successful lover. His spine rattled and muscles tensed as he spilled into her. She held his hips firm to keep him deep inside until it was completely over. Until there was nothing more for her to receive.

He withdrew and collapsed at her side, ambivalent to the dirt beneath him. 

A few minutes later she stood up and shook out his shirt. Most of the debris shook off, but there were still a lot lot of dark soil marks left behind. "When we get home you're going to scrub this clean with a toothbrush," she said as he rose cautiously to his feet. "I'll accept minimal staining, but that's it."

He frowned. It didn't sound too difficult.

"Oh," Emma said as she helped him put on the utterly defined garment. "And I'll have the vid files of aaaaaalllllll our favorite games playing right next to you. Full volume." She smoothed out his shirt. "I doubt I'll get . . . _needy_ again - a girl can only take so much - but if I do, I'll take care of myself." She got dressed and packed up their toys. Everything except the collar around Killian's neck. That stayed on. "Maybe on front of you," she shrugged. "We'll see how I feel."

 _And suddenly LAUNDRY becomes erotic,_ he thought with a quiet chuckle. _Never in my life would I have guessed it possible._ He smiled. _I have an impossibly amazing life._


	6. On Stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma really doesn't like attending "official" events or giving speeches. Hook helps to make it fun.

They were relaxing quietly on the back porch in the beautiful weather gazing out at the sea when Emma gave him _the look._ Hook smiled at her, exuding warmth.

"We can't, pet. You and Regina are cutting the ribbon at the new theatre today, and then you've got that big speech, remember? We have to start getting ready soon, in fact."

"I do remember," Emma turned to face him and cupped the front of his pants. "Why do you think I've been rehearsing the speech so obsessively all week long?". . . she breathed in the scent of him mixed the sea air. "I'll need to recite it no matter how _distracted_ I am."

Hook's eyes darkened, both impressed and aroused. "You've been planning this?"

"Mmmmmm," Emma sighed. "I'm not fond of the ceremonial aspect of Princess life. I thought being your Toy for the day would make it bearable."

_Clever woman._

Hook jerked her hand away from his half firm cock, pinned both hands behind her back and drove her against the porch railing.

 _God he gets into it fast,_ Emma shuddered, flashing back to the days when it took him a few minutes to warm up.

Hook gave her arms a solid tug. Not enough to hurt, but enough to elicit a quick, eager noise. "Have you got yourself off to the thought of it these last weeks?"

"Three times," she replied. "No, three and a half. One time Mom and Dad dropped by unexpectedly and by the time they left I had to get to work."

"Poor Swan," he chuckled, dripping _smug._   
"Must have been awkward trying to calm yourself down while they chattered away."

Emma swallowed as she felt him grow against her hip. "I told them I'd been doing a shitload of push ups."

Despite the fact that their rented home was on the waterfront, 'on the waterfront' did not mean 'a few steps from the beach.' Also, if one was wandering the beach, they'd have to squint through piles of boulders and random foliage to get even a halfway decent look at Emma's back porch, much less discern any activity.

Hook was wearing regular clothes, but she was dressed in a black bikini with a matching thigh length beach robe.

"Even though we're unlikely to be seen by anyone at all -" he tightened his grip on her wrists and hovered over her mouth as he spoke, "I'll spare you the _indignity_ of being stripped naked and fucked right out in the open."

"Thank you," Emma whispered, politeness being an implicitly understood rule of the game.

"It's not for you!" He growled. "True, it keeps your dignity intact, but my primary motivation is - and listen carefully because you seem to have forgotten . . . " his fingers dove beneath the waistband of her bikini and ghosted circles around her clit, his touch so delicate as to completely clash with the forceful tone of his words. He knew how much such contradictions turned her on. "On the off chance anyone did somehow catch a glimpse of you fully naked, then they'd have seen something that belongs to _me!"_ he growled. "My territory, _my_ treasure!"

The tender touch changed without warning when he plunged two fingers deep into her and thrust aggressively, each thrust timed to emphasize his words. "I. Will. Not. Share. _You!"_

Emma clutched his shirtsleeve for support while he held her hip tight in his hand.

 _Not that the hook ever impeded me,_ he thought, _but it is convenient to have two hands at my disposal._

Much to Emma's dismay, the fingers inside her ceased to move. She closed he eyes as if to mourn the loss, but Hook ordered her to look at him, so she met and held his unwavering stare.

"You are my pleasure. My obedient, _stunning_ plaything." His tongue darted out and slid through her pliant lips for hardly a second before he withdrew.

 _You're teasing me._ She bit back a whine. _Please keep going._

His thumb began to massage her clit and the cadence of his voice changed from aggressive to the spoken equivalent of the black silk around her shoulders. A shining, slippery spill of darkness.

"A pirate shares his plunder with no one, Swan. . . nooooooow . . . " his eyes raked over the length of her body, drinking her in like the finest quality rum. "I've no issue with other men being treated to the sight of your legs . . . or the slope of your back, your midriff, even the swell of cleavage." He ran his tongue from the silhouette of her breasts to the base of her throat, then pulled away. "Even if a man should gaze a bit, or sneak a second look," he withdrew his fingers from her completely in favor of gripping her ass with both hands and pressing her against his hardness. "Honestly, it flatters me. That other men may only admire a mere _hint,_ just a taste of what is mine." He grinned and slid the robe down one shoulder, then lunged in for a sharp bite. 

Emma shuddered and gasped. 

"What I get to take home and strip bare," his hands went beneath the silk garment and yanked the bikini bottoms down to mid - thigh, "fuck senseless and command to whatever service I desire." He hoisted her up and sat her on the railing, careful to arrange the robe so it spilled over the railing and obscured her ass. "Let's push those legs out a bit," he mused as he tugged her bikini bottoms completely off, pushed her thighs apart, and positioned himself closer to her ready center.

She said nothing, but he could read the look on her face.

"I said I wouldn't _strip you naked_ and fuck you out in the open." He paused and watched her realize the technicality while he undid his belt. "There are so many ways to fuck a woman without stripping her bare."

She jerked and drew in a sharp, shaky breath when he took himself out and rocked against her, is rigid shaft sweeping through the length of her sex.

"Of course such methods are usually employed with common harlots or whores in dark alleys."

He kept rocking, but refused to enter her. 

No.

Instead he guided himself to press against her clit with every upward sweep.

"What would you prefer, Emma?" he asked, never taking his eyes from her face. "To be lain down on our cozy bed and gently wooed whilst I undress you? Or to be claimed right here as you are, taken in whatever manner I please?"

"Right here," Emma insisted, panting as just the tip of him slipped inside her. "Right here!" 

It took all of her self discipline not to buck her hips and force him deeper. 

"Hm. Like a whore?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"No pride at all?"

"No!"

He curled one hand around her throat and pushed her mouth open with his own, demanding her tongue participate in a volley of power. While the kiss was more than pleasurable, she did not fail to notice the feel of him moving deeper inside her. 

He ripped free of her mouth and hissed, "well here's what that feels like."

She gripped the railing to keep from tumbling off the edge and clutched his waist with her legs as he granted her request.

Not a rapid - fire thrust.

But deep.

And selfish.

The kind of thrust that made her whole body lurch.

The kind of thrust that fulfilled her expectations of a playmate and then some.

"How shall I pay you?" Hook rasped against her ear as his right arm wound around her back so she had something to lean against.

"What?" She whimpered, half - lost in a fog.

"A whore - ah! Trades sex - for - for - _fuck!_ . . . for money!"

He gasped and quickened his pace when she leaned in such a way as to help him stretch her out rather than just advance and retreat.

His voice warbled and shallowed. "What is your fee?"

The head of his cock started to drive into a highly sensitive spot with every forward thrust, and pleasure wracked her body too powerfully to respond to his question for a moment. "Cock," she finally whispered with great effort. "S'all I need." She panted. "Yours. Please. Pay me. _Pay me!"_

He growled obscene praise for her unparalleled lust as he came, ranking his nails over her flesh. The sting made her even more wet than before he fucked her. 

He didn't wait for his body to recover before he zipped up, yanked her off the railing, and switched their places.

"Knees. Now." He leaned back and crossed his arms and legs as she lowered her wobbly body.

He regarded her silently for a moment. "Decisions, decisions," he mused, drumming his fingers on his arm. "Part of me is imagining those lovely thighs _covered_ in nice dark marks . . . "  
He continued to drum his fingers.

"I never let myself cum in you until my dick is absolutely exhausted, so letting you suck me is out . . . " he leered down at her. "Maybe later if you beg hard enough."

She opened her mouth to plead, but Hook cut her off.

"I said later!" He barked. "Your listening skills had better improve, you know what I expect!" He pushed himself off the railing and started to circle her like a hawk. "Maybe it's been too long since we played . . . maybe I need to re - train you . . . "

 _Train?!_ Her ears perked as well as her posture. _That's a pet word. Leash? Is he going to leash me?_ She visualized herself being walked back indoors on her hands and knees, her eyes fixed to the ground.

Hook noticed the change on her demeanor right away, and stroked her head as though she were indeed a pet. "Lay on the ground, knees up, legs spread . . . " he waited for her to get in position. "Close your eyes and take care of yourself."

He didn't wait around to make sure she obeyed before walking back into the house and sliding the porch door closed behind him.

 _God I'm wet,_ she thought when her hands a reached their destination. _It has been too long since we played!_

By the time Hook returned her back was arched and her mouth open as if preparing to take cock.

"Keep going," he commanded softly as he crouched next to her.

She heard a soft _clink_ and felt a cool, narrow strip of leather slide beneath her neck.

_Collar!_

She increased pressure on her clit as that familiar, beautiful throb began to build in her gut.

Hook's delicate hands fastened the collar around her neck.

She sped her pace and massaged herself aggressively while she waited to hear the clatter of a leash being clasped on. Instead what she felt was two of Hook's fingers curling through the collar.

"Stop." The word wasn't growled, or hissed, or yelled. Just stated calm as a breeze.

She was so close that it physically hurt her to do it, but orders are orders. Her hands had barely settled at her sides when he jerked her into sitting position. She made the mistake of intuiting the next step and crouched onto all fours, and was punished for it.

"My _God!"_ His arm came across her back at an angle and forced her down as if she were about to be arrested. "It has been too bloody long since we played!"

Her check was pressed to the porch, and she could feel his hot breath against her ear when he bent down to quietly scold her. "No words. Nod yes or no. Is it your place to make assumptions?"

She shook her head no.

"Unless I specifically allow it, do you get a say?"

She shook her head no.

"Do you at any point presume to contradict me?"

No.

"Should you pay for your violation?"

She nodded yes.

His arm left her back and he lovingly nuzzled her jut beneath the earlobe. "That was the correct answer, Swan. You may be _unruly,"_ he bit and tugged her earlobe. "And a bit of a cock junkie. But you are intelligent." He ran his tongue over the soft flesh he'd just bit. "Intelligence gets me harder than the _tightest_ pussy ever could."

She stifled a whimper as he grabbed her collar again, this time pulling her into full standing position.

"Here's how you pay," he said, his voice returned to darkness as he held her collar at the back and steered her through the house and into the bathroom.

The crop and his cell phone were displayed across sink cabinet.

"Bend." He pushed her forward. "Hands in either side of the sink, palms flat."

She watched herself in the mirror while she did as she was told.

The hand at the back of her neck clenched harder and he leaned close to her ear again. "I was going to hurt you a bit more before we got ready." He grabbed ahold of the crop and threw it out the open bathroom door. "Nope. That's out." He picked up the cell phone and held it so close to her face it took up almost her entire field of vision. "I was also going to try a little something new." He paused to make room for a silent drumroll. "Instead of setting this up on a stand to film my _generosity,_ I was going to make you hold it and film us in the mirror . . . I had it all planned out . . . Mmmmmmm," he sighed as he breathed her in. "Hold it as still as you can, Emma . . . I want you in frame at all times, Emma . . . if you drop it . . ."

Her breath shallowed as she waited for him to continue.

". . . I'll not lay another finger on you for the rest of the day but I'll make you watch from across the room every time I get myself off. . . "

Panic flooded her eyes.

"Don't worry," Hook purred with a gentle kiss to her temple. "You've not lost my touch _or_ my aggression." He kissed he again. "You'll just be attending the opening with a pristine ass is all."

"Thank you," Emma sighed. "I want so much more."

"I know," he said as he released her neck from his iron grip. "I've never met a woman with such an immodest libido." He paused and ran his fingers through her hair. "You may stand up."

She stood and they stood snuggled together like any other couple. Doe eyed and gazing at one another. His one hand in her hair, the other resting at her midriff while she caressed his arm.

"Let's just see . . ." He whispered as the hand at her midriff began to travel south. "How we're doing." He wiggled his fingers beneath her bikini bottoms and palmed the soaking heat between her legs. "That's what I like to feel." He grinned. He withdrew his hand and held it before her face. "Lick."

She went to work, never taking her eyes off the mirror.

 _I am awesome!_ She thought. The abundant taste of arousal on his hand helped distract her from the annoyance of losing the crop.

"We both need to get ready, so it's going to be a while before I can tend to you properly," he explained as she ran her tongue over the terrain of his palm. "But rest assured you _will_ work for my benefit at this event."

He gazed at her while she finished cleaning his hand.

"Right then," he practically chirped. His voice bearing no trace of their gameplay. "Hair up. Up and sleek, that's all I require, the makeup is your call. I'll go pick the dress."

He pulled her into a long, meandering kiss. "I do love that taste," he whispered against her lips. 

An hour later they were standing together in front of a full length mirror in the bedroom.

Hook had picked her out a simple smoky grey dress with short sleeves and a scoop neck. The dress wasn't tight but it did flatter her figure, and the hemline fell just above the knee. 

He wore black pants and a dark red long sleeved shirt (V neck of course. Emma could count on one hand the number of times she saw him in any other style.)

Nothing fancy. It was a theatre opening, not a night at then Opera. 

He kissed her temple and gave her a medium sized white handbag. "Keep this with you. Standard necessities plus blindfold, change of panties, and the tiny vibrator. Listen for your phone, I'll be texting you instructions now and then."

He clapped when Emma and Regina held the giant scissors and cut the ribbon together.

Meandered and chatted with everyone in the lobby before they all were ushered in to the main stage theatre. Since it wasn't a fancy enough occasion for reserved seating he made sure to loiter near the door so he could be one of the first ones in and claim a front row seat. 

Granny and Archie ended up being the only two people sitting between him and Emma's parents.

The order for the speeches was: 1)Gippetto, since building the theatre was his idea in the first place. 2)Regina 3)Emma. 

_Now for the fun._

The lights were dimmed and a spotlight shine bright on Gippetto, so it was easy for him to subtly slip his phone from his coat pocket unnoticed and hold it low.

Emma was waiting in the wings behind Regina mentally running through the lines of her speech when she got the text.

_Put it in. And when I start it, you had better move your body for best use of the thing. I know you know how to._

"Psst!" She tapped Regina on the shoulder. "I need to duck out for a minute. I'll be back in a minute."

She grabbed her purse and dashed to the ladies room.

 _Done._ She texted back in less than a minute, squirming with anticipation. _What now?_

_Return to your place and wait._

Emma wondered if his heart was really in it this time.

Nothing happened for the rest of Gippetto's speech. And nothing through Regina's.

Then Regina handed the floor over to her.

The moment the spotlight hit her she felt a barely discernible, continuous quiver between her legs. It stopped when Regina finished introducing her and she stepped up to the podium.

"Hi," she smiled. "I'm so glad you all could make it, thank you. And thank you again to Gippetto for the wonderful idea, and all the **_generous -"_**

Hook brought his thumb down on the control and slid it to maximum when she said the word. She'd reheated the speech so many times he knew it too, and he had a pretty good idea of when and how hard to play her.

He bit back a grin when she curled her fingers tight around the edge of the podium and continued, masking her surprise as enthusiasm.

"Such **_generous_** support from all of you with your fundraisers. Granny," a smaller spotlight found Granny. "We can't say enough about your pies, we really can't, they're the best."

Another strong, drawn out pulse. Granted she was behind a podium, but Hook still watched her carefully to make sure she was doing her best to manipulate the toy inside her.

 _Goooooood girl,_ he silently praised as she shifted her posture. 

"And everyone who participated in Storybrook High's art auction, _very_ ** _TALENTED -"_** she gripped the podium. "TALENTED YOUNG PEOPLE!" She applauded. "Hey, who bought the ceramic dish set?"

"I did!" A guy seated in the middle row raised his hands.

Emma smiled and pointed in the direction of his voice since the spotlight obscured her vision. "You sir, outbid me," a gentle laugh rolled through the crowd. "But we're good. I can take it."

A series of rapid fire burst.

She chewed her lip playfully, and he knew her body well enough to discern the twitch in her shoulders that always accompanied a shiver down south.

 _Quite the actress, Swan._ If he didn't know better, he'd assume her playfulness demeanor was the result of her innocuous banter.

"I'm not greedy."

He eased back on the pace, but slowly accelerated intensity as she went continued.

"This theatre is proof of -" she cleared her throat. "Of what a **_great_** . . . town Storybrook is. We take **_care_**. . . of our community."

She cleared her throat again and he knew from the way she shifted her weight that she was obeying her order. Doing her all to work the lively toy against her most sensitive spots while trying not to betray her arousal.

"Ahem. Sorry. Throat's a little dry."

Hook decided to be nice and hit pause while she took a sip of water.

 _You're smart enough to know it's not over, Emma._ Of that he was sure. He knew his woman, especially when they played. Even an attentive partner had to be doubly so with this sort of thing.

She drew a deep breath.

"We come _tthh-_ Through for each other. Work together. We're a team."

She got a lucky break when everyone clapped in praise of Storybrook, and she had a moment rally her poker face even as she held her legs close together and felt the ripple in her strong thigh muscles climb higher and clench around her proxy for Hook's skilled hands or cock.

 _Stop. Picturing. It._ She scolded herself. She couldn't stop imagining them fucking somewhere backstage. Or better, her naked and stinging, biting back cries as he wielded the crop.

_No sympathy, no quarter, no -- goddammit, stop picturing it._

The applause ended far too soon and she was forced to mentally multitask. 

_In the prop room. Below the stage . . ._

A lot of productions involved a character seeming to rise out of or fall through the ground, so under the stage was like it's own little room with a bunch of trapdoor access points.

**_STOP, STOP STOP!!!_ **

Hook couldn't help but chuckle. _I am impressed though, Princess._

"I'm lucky to _have you all. Really lucky."_

It looked and sounded like sentimental emphasis. One had to look and listen close to pick up the subtle differences.

 _Or know her like I do,_ Hook thought, allowing himself a touch of arrogance. _You clueless sods think she's just moved as hell about this place._ He knew she was truly proud of the new theatre, but he also knew her whole body was _aching_ to cum.

"You've been so _good to me from the moment I **came** here . . . thankyouandenjoytheshow!"_

She rallied and managed to make it offstage without wobbling as the High School band began to play. Hook rose from his seat to meet her in the wings. No one would question him going to congratulate her on the fine speech and soothe her slightly worked up state.

He sped the thing to its quickest pace, met her backstage, and immediately brought her into a tight hug. The band was playing too loud for even nearby people to hear anything he whispered in her ear.

"Spectacular, love." He placed a hand on her lower back and pressed her close enough to feel his hint of hardness beneath the strategically loose pants. "Do you know how _hard_ I'm working to stay _soft?!"_

She pressed her mouth against the crook of his neck and whimpered.

"Calm yourself enough to walk and don't you dare cum until I allow it!"

"Of course not," she promised, despite being dripping wet. 

_Thank you for the change of panties, Hook. This pair is going to reek of sex by the time you're done with me._

"I wouldn't."

Emma had been so keen to follow every step of the construction process, Hook had many times walked through the building by her side at various stages of completion, so he knew there were at least three tiers of rafters backstage. The top tier well obscured to anyone on the ground. 

"Top tier of the rafters," he rasped. "Bring your purse."

A hand operated lift took them to the top. Hook didn't count. It may have been three three tiers, it may have been a thousand. All he knew is, it was pitch dark. His eyes had to adjust before he could see that there _were_ lightbulbs strung here and there. Probably just bright enough for the actor to see a bit.

He pushed her to the ground as soon as they stepped onto the narrow plank. Just wide enough to accommodate their side - by - side bodies.

"Remove the toy."

She obeyed.

"Your purse."

She held it up for him to take.

"Close your eyes."

It didn't take a genius to figure out he meant to blindfold her.

"Crawl. Forward." He ordered in his coldest tone.

She had no idea how far she'd crawled when he grabbed the back of her dress and yanked her into kneeling position.

"So elegant."

She could here the _clicking_ of his shoes as he paced semi - circles around her.

"So adored by her public. If only they knew how _filthy_ you are . . . "

A rush of arousal shot through her when she heard him unzip.

"What would they think . . . ?"

"That . . ." she swallowed, hoping she gave the answer he wanted. "That I'm a whore."

"Exactly." Hook stroked her hair lovingly, as though he'd take. Her on the most romantic possible outing. "And whores don't request. They _receive."_

With that his hands fisted in her hair, officially ruining her fine, sleek hairdo, and his cock plunged into her mouth. Not that she was surprised by the move, his words had made the plan rather obvious, but his pace was faster than usual.

 _A challenge,_ she realized with a tingle. Sometimes they liked to push the boundaries a little. To see if the parameters had moved.

_I'll show you, Pirate._

She honed in on nothing but the master in her mouth, and timed her suck and release to the pace of his thrust.

"Hold still," his hissed, massaging and tugging her hair at will. "You're a wet hole, do you understand? . . . and you may touch me."

She whined against his hard, pulsing flesh as her hands went to his shaft and balls as if magnetic force compelled her.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh," he breathed. "Your talents . . . " he couldn't finish the sentence.

He fucked her throat until he came with a rattling hiss, admiring the sight of a a few drops of cum rolling down her chin.

Her hair was an absolute rat's nest by the time he finished.

"You've done so well," he whispered as he softened and withdrew from the warm cave of her mouth. "I was going to end the game here -"

"What?!" She kicked herself as soon as the word escaped her throat.

_You accept when he gives, Emma!_

A low laugh rumbled out of his chest. "I'll forgive that _flagrant_ violation, dearest. Just because my body is wanting, and you may take full credit."

She shuddered with relief.

He smiled. "It was quite unexpected and you are owed a reward, I am no tyrant after all. So instead of a. . . . _closing curtain_ so to speak, we shall take an intermission."

He grabbed her elbow, pulled her to her feet.

"Let me think . . . "

Their standard _pause_ method was to tape or tie up the pet and have them sit somewhere in the house until Owner was ready to play again, but Hook felt like stepping out of the box.

"Here's what you're to do Princess - and listen carefully because I will not repeat myself. When we get home I will give you the car keys. You shall fetch me my favorite cigar - you know the ones - a bottle of scotch," she took a wad of bills from his pocket and shoved them into her bra. _"The best scotch."_

He was still partial to rum, but for some reason top shelf scotch sounded better to him. Maybe the rich amber color subconsciously struck him as sexier, he didn't know and didn't care. He took a moment to lick the tantalizing slope of her breasts and undo her hair before continuing. "When you get home you will change into the lingerie of choosing while I smoke my cigar, crawl to my feet and wait until I finish my cigar, and when I'm done you will do . . . ?"

"Whatever you want," Emma replied calmly while Hook smoothed down and brushed her hair with his fingers.

She changed her panties and they both returned to casually mingling with the crowd. Hours passed before they pulled up in front of the house. As promised, Hook handed over the keys and strolled up the driveway.

 _Cigar and scotch. Black and silver bodice with garter belt, thigh highs, no panties, and lace up stiletto boots._ She figured it was the perfect combination of sexy and badass. 

Meanwhile, Hook had mastered his role well enough to push her delicious appeal out of mind when she was of sight and collect his energy. He snacked on a handful of potato chips and thumbed though one of Henry's magazines. _Artful Science Digest._ While he had no intention of utterly usurping Neal, his feelings toward Henry were fatherly enough for him to feel a rush of pride at 'his boy's' obvious intellect and creativity. Most other young lads were surely not avid readers of things like _Artful Science Digest._

But the reverie ended when Emma came home. 

He was strewn across the couch, and Emma came and knelt at his side and set a small paper bag on the coffee table. 

"Sixteen year old Aberlour," she purred. "And your favorite cigar. Should I serve you or go get dressed?"

Hook considered the question, surprised he hadn't thought of the detail in advance.

"Bring me a tumbler with two ice cubes," he decided. "I'll handle the cigar."

He sipped and and smoked in leisure while he listened to Emma get ready.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," he let out an inhuman moan when she returned to the roomm her hands behind her back?"

He sat up straight and stubbed the half smoked cigar out on his impromptu astray, otherwise known as a seldom used coffee mug (neither of them indulged in cigars often enough to merit an actual ashtray.)

"You're brilliant," he mused. "Turn around."

"I hope you don't mind," she purred when he saw that her hands were actually handcuffed behind her back. "I am technically wearing them." She looked over her shoulder at him. "You can think of them as bracelets that get you hard . . ."

His partial hardness _did_ grow noticeably.

" . . . or if you'd rather put me away for -"

"Come here!" He growled as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Undo my pants and stroke."

He tore his shirt off, removed her handcuffs, and poured a light rain of scotch over her body as she unzipped and withdrew him. He let her stroke him for as long as he could stand, then instead of pulling her into his lap and demanding she ride him, he slid to the floor and spun her around so her lower back was pressed against the couch, her legs spread wide at either side of him.

"You look delicious," he said as he licked a trails of scotch from her breasts and shoulders. "How do I pay for the meal?" he asked, revisiting the theme from earlier in the day.

"Mmmmmmm," her head lolled back.

He ran his tongue over her abdomen, picking up more scotch tails as he went.

"How?" he whispered.

"M - m - more cock."

He surged into her the second the words cleared her lips.

"Am I kind?" he panted as he thrust.

"Yyyyy," she whined through clenched teeth. He took it as a yes.

"Just?"

"Ah. Ah. _Ah - Uh huh."_ The answer came shallow and halting.

The game demanded a selfish fuck so he skipped her clit all together, and clawed at her ass as he swelled inside her and came.

"Bloody! . . . _Oh!_ Bloody . . . right. _I! Am!"_ He came with a rattling moan and still mustered the energy to suck a dark mark into the base of her throat while afterglow seeped in.

"Damn," Emma sighed when he finished his work.

At that moment it dawned on her for the first time that she and Hook were a month away from their two year anniversary. Then she flashed back (for the first time in a long time) to all the weeks she'd spent agonizing over whether or not to tell him the deep dark secret of her fantasy.

And there they were. Crumpled at the foot of the couch, covered in the smell of scotch and sex, and she'd never been happier in her life.


	7. The Anniversary Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot is in the title.

It was the one time they made an exception to the rule.

They both woke up on the morning of their anniversary with the same idea. He knew it, and Emma knew it.

Their normal rule dictated that Emma was only allowed to ask for his Ownership via a certain _look._ But that particular morning, such A special, important morning, Playtime was their mutual thought the moment they woke up.

No, it wasn't traditionally _romantic_ as would usually be expected of an anniversary - but nothing about the roots of Emma and Killian's attraction and subsequent courtship had been traditional. Even from its very first moment. Emma had taken a huge risk in their relationship when she confessed her fantasy, and Killian's surprising commitment to fulfilling that fantasy only further cemented their bond. So it made sense to both of them to celebrate their trust and devotion by Playing for a while. A private, bizarre expression of their romance.

Given the special circumstance, Killian didn't mind when they stepped out of the shower and Emma immediately went to their "upgraded" Toybox and knelt in front it, her eyes cast to the ground, and fingers holding the combination dial, waiting eagerly for the order to turn it.

They'd decided months previous to venture into more blatant sex toys, and on the off chance Henry went snooping, which it he never did anyhow, Emma could tell him the lockbox contained important/dangerous magical objects, hence the extreme protection. (Though neither she nor Killian were seriously worried such a thing would ever happen).

Anyhow, Killian responded to the violation of their rules by ignoring her entirely while he dressed himself. All black. Leather vest.

Meanwhile Emma remained silent, and as motionless as humanly possible.

"So what do you want of me?" he asked while buttoning up his vest.

"Anything you ask," Emma replied.

Killian bent down and pulled her head back by the hair, fairly certain of his Emma's desire. "I said, what do _you_ want?"

"The most you've ever done," she rasped. "Push me. We're both such screwed up people, Killian, and we've made it to two years. I should give you more than I ever have. Make me. Please."

 _I have never been more proud of myself,_ Killian thought as Emma's plea flooded his whole body with courage and determination. He remembered the way her hands and voice shook on the day she first admitted this desire. The long pauses and deep, uncertain breaths. She'd even told him about the two previous men she let into this aspect of herself, and what happened after. He couldn't imagine what it took for her to take the plunge again, with him.

_With me._

He was a privileged man, and he knew it. _I'd sooner die than fail you, Emma Swan,_ was the last thought he had before dedicating himself to the role of HOOK. The ruthless pirate. A man who did nonetheless loved his Swan, but still. Generally a selfish, stone cold bastard. Ready to give his woman what she begged for.

"Open the box," he commanded. "Clothes box too."

Needless to say, she obeyed.

He snatched the bit gag immediately and fastened it to her complaint mouth, then selected zip up, knee high leather stilettos from the clothes box.

"Put those on and get on the edge of the bed. All fours."

 _God, you're good at this,_ she thought, feeling unfathomably fortunate as she zipped up her scant costume. _Are you thinking about where we started? Back when you needed a minute to warm up?_

He set his phone on the bed in front of her. "You are not to move from this position until I call," he said, bent close to her ear. "and then you are only to a put me on speaker phone. I'll instruct you from there. Understood?"

She nodded, and he left the room without another word.

A powerful tingle shot down the length of her spine when she heard the front door open and shut.

She waited for the phone to ring, damp with anticipation. The wait went on . . . and on . . . and on. Minutes ticked by on the screen and it was all she could do to keep from squirming.

 _Stay still._ That was his order, and in honor of their partnership she truly did want to up the game. Re - set the whole board, in fact. _Be a goddamn statue!_

. . . ten minutes.

. . . twenty.

. . . forty.

It was an hour on the dot since he left when the phone finally rang, and Emma's body was screaming for the sound of his voice when she answered and set it to speakerphone in the space of a microsecond.

"I'm parked one block away," he informed her with no hello.

She panted around then bit gag, and her hips rolled a little despite her effort to hold perfectly still.

"Are you posed as I left you? _Precisely?"_

"Mmhmm," Emma replied around the impediment in her mouth.

Hook sighed. "My good girl . . . my lovely, _obedient_ thing. I'm thinking about the first time I ever truly challenged myself for you. You know, got my head 'round exactly the sort of cock slave you wanted me to make you be when we play this Game."

A high pitched mewl escaped her, and he chuckled, his tone dripping dark arrogance.

"It was that night I brought you take out when you were stuck working late at the police station. Catching up on paperwork, I believe. The cells were empty."

He paused and she heard the sound of his belt and zipper coming undone.

"That was the first time I needed not even one moment to take you on when you gave me the look." his tone changed abruptly. No longer seductive, but instructional. "Take the bit gag out of your mouth and tell me what I did then."

Emma ripped the thing off as fast as she could and answered, "you kicked the chair out from under me, and . . ." She paused to gather her senses and recall the night in perfect detail, not wanting to leave out a thing. "Then you told me to get in one of the cells and strip naked while turned out the lights and locked all the doors."

"And . . . ?"

 _Shit!_ Emma scolded herself. She knew she was forgetting something. "Oh! I also had to hold the keys in my teeth."

"Correct." He chuckled again, this time quieter and almost mocking. "You're earning yourself a lot of points, love. So far you've not skipped a thing. Keep it up and you have no idea what delicious pains I'll reward you with when I arrive home."

"I can't wait." she whispered.

"Well that's too bloody bad, because you have to. I'll take over the story now. I set up one of the interrogation cameras to film us, took the keys from your mouth and locked us both in the cell. Then I ordered you to your knees, back against the bars. Can you still feel the bars, Swan? Those cold, cold bars?"

"Yeah." She replied and closed her eyes tight, trying to block out the powerful urge to pleasure herself as he spoke.

"I pulled your hands behind your back and cuffed you to the bars . . ." a fairly long silence passed, and Emma could tell he was stroking himself, enjoying the sensation he was steadfastly denying her. "I stood back to admire you in all your bare, desperate glory . . ." another long pause. "God, I've never seen a woman so _blatantly_ eager. I got hard as hell, but I stayed still. I understood for the first time how much you wanted to suffer . . . the first time . . .

"Oooooooooo, thank you," Emma sighed, unable to contain the sentiment as she listened to his breathing grow shallow.

"I narrated some of what I intended to do to you for the camera. What did I say, Emma? - you needn't recall word for word," he clarified. "Just the gist."

"You said . . . " Emma's body ached for the sting of his ownership. "You said you were going to force yourself as far down my throat as I could take, and fuck hard. That if I needed Lemon I should shake my head and try to stand up. I trusted you . . ." she sighed. "I trusted you so much, that you'd notice if I did. . ."

"Get back to the fun bits!"

"I'm sorry. Um, then . . . then if I swallowed enough cum to make you happy, you'd use your belt and on my back and leave me sore for days."

"And I made good on my word, didn't I?"

Emma could hear the smirk in his voice. She adored how much he'd grown to love his role. It made being his Toy feel all the more satisfying. And motivated her keep pushing herself. Keep pleasing him.

"Yes," She whimpered. "You got it out in front of my face and I barely had a second to get ready before before I had to suck you."

"Mmmmmmmm," Hook moaned. "I told the camera how sweet your mouth felt. Gripped the bars to keep from collapsing and described it all. . . your tongue, the heat, how ridiculously deep you could take it . . . and - _OH! Oh, oooooooh,_ how much you must love to be used in such a manner that you kept taking me on with no Lemon in sight. Not even a hint. I stared out at the room and fucked your incredible throat. I knew we'd be watching the footage later, and I wanted to focus on the feel of it all - and listen to all those lovely sounds you made. So busy. So resolute . . . now you tell me what happened next."

"You told me to get ready maybe a half second before you started to cum." Emma recalled, her insides hot and shivering at the memory - both of swallowing him and then stern belt that came after. She greeted every strike with a loud thank you. She'd worked for it. "I was so glad I took enough to win the belt!"

"Indeed you were, love. I remember that especially. How you whined, and begged, and praised. Every previous time I'd held back a little . . ." His breathing began to grow ragged and shallow. "I didn't wield the belt or the crop nearly so well as I do now. I believe I sold you short in those first months, Emma, but I - AH! _AH!_ I mean . . . to make it up to you today!"

Just the thought of what might await her sent a slick tide of arousal coursing from her sex. Even her inner thighs were wet with lust. "I want it," she assured her pirate. "So fucking bad!"

"I will make you _work!"_ Hook promised, his own voice rising as impending climax pulsed through his body. "Like never before! You will scream! Writhe! Serve my every demand!"

"Yes! _Yeyesyesyesyes!"_ She was already cumming harder than she had in a long time.

"I'm going to be home in a minute, my Toy," he informed her. "You may touch yourself in the meantime, but DO NOT take your eyes off the mattress when I enter the room!"

"Eyes on the mattress," she repeated in a throaty voice as her right hand went instantly to her clit, relieved to be granted the right. "No looking. Promise."

Emma listened as Hook came. He hung up immediately after.

Hook walked into the room a minute or so later just as he'd said he would, and she likewise stayed true to her promise and kept her gaze riveted to the mattress as he walked around behind her. Through her sighing and gasping she heard the faint rustle of a plastic bag, and then:

_THWACK!_

A hard, wide object struck her ass with enough force to send her lurching forward. She gripped the blankets for support as the unknown object landed three more times.

Finished for the moment, Hook ran a gentle hand up her back and held the thing in front of her face.

"Apparently it's properly called a 'cheese cutting board.'" He said with a grin as he admired the amber grain of the wood. "This one caught my eye a few days ago on account of it has a handle, and I've been thinking since then how your ass deserves something a bit mooooooore . . . what's the word?" he stood up again and delivered another firm smack.. . . "More _punishing_ than the crop."

"Uuu - uuu - uuu - uuu -!" the stilted sound escaped her in time to each strike.

"To! Remind! You! Of! Your! _PLACE!"_ Hook shouted, also in time to the rhythm.

The pain of the makeshift paddle, and talent of her own hand at her clit sent orgasm barreling from her heated depths, sweeping through every muscle and bone with the force of a landslide. Hook ceased paddling when he knew she was at the height of her climax, and crouched down, his knee resting on the edge of the mattress as he slid three fingers inside her.

"Isn't she easy?" He mused, splaying his fingers as wide as possible against the clenching pressure of her readied sex. "So happy to be used . . . and I haven't even given her cock yet . . . " he slowed his ministrations as Emma finished, her incoherent cries turning to deep breaths and soft, grateful praise.

The pride and excitement of bringing her to orgasm always had some effect on his cock, but this time he'd already cum just minutes before, so the effect amounted to little more than a slight stirring. As he'd intended.

 _Give her a moment to rest,_ said the gentlemanly part of his brain out of sheer habit.

 _That's not what she wants!_ Was the Ruthless Pirate's immediate rebuttal. _She wants to play harder than ever before, you idiot!_

He knew that throwing her someplace in the apartment (or town) and fucking her relentlessly was a must at some point, but no matter what _her body_ wanted, he was nowhere near ready for the effort.

 _Torture by way of deprivation,_ he decided. _It's a win - win._

"You'll have to wait for cock," he growled as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her to her feet. "I can only satisfy so much of your _need_ in one go."

Through the haze of survival and afterglow he saw a flicker of disappointment dance over her features, so he brought his face within a half inch of hers and growled. "If you dare complain . . ."

"I'll get nothing," Emma finished. "Just the . . . the normal anniversary stuff." She struggled to keep from showing any sign of worry. (and actually succeeded, somewhat to her surprise.)

"You wanted _cruel,"_ He held her by the throat for emphasis. "And you shall have it. Now," he let go of her and took a big step back. "You will remain dressed as you are, just the boots, but we're going to pause and eat something. And of course I'll need to relax for a while, but in the meantime, you needn't worry. I'll think of something to keep you occupied."

They left the bedroom, and Hook's eyes raked over her while she made them both pancakes. He periodically stepped forward to bite and suck at whatever piece of flesh he thought needed a mark.

 _Turtlenecks and scarves for at least a week,_ she thought, thrilled that he was exercising none of the usual restraint they employed with regard to those harder to cover up signs of raucous sex.

"Hmmmmmmm . . ." He sighed against the back of her neck as his hands roamed over her body, paying special attention to her breasts, kneading the soft flesh and frequently pinching nipples tight enough to make her body twitch. "Standing in front of a pan waiting for batter to cook strikes me as awfully boring." He bit her shoulder. "And I may not be ready to fuck you yet, but I want you generally prepared until I am. Can't have you getting bored." He disappeared down the hall, and returned with their wi - fi controlled vibrator. "Legs apart just a tad."

Emma obeyed and flipped a pancake casually, as though every woman took it for granted that her boyfriend might slide a sex toy inside her at any given moment. Practically a kiss on the forehead, really.

He leaned close to her ear. "I'll use it as I please in the interim, Swan. For minutes, or maybe seconds . . . like this -" Emma gasped when he set the control to full strength. "Or this -" he slid the control to practically nothing, and a low sound of thinly veiled disappointment escaped his Pet. "Aaaaaaaaalllllllll whenever I please." Hook turned the thing off completely, and a moment of silence passed. When he spoke again, his tone was light and conversational, with not the slightest a hint of sex painting his words. "It's the perfect morning for pancakes, don't you think? I love pancakes on a dreary morning." He sat down at the table and pointed to the large living room window. Only the thin layer of curtains was pulled shut, so one could easily see the lack of sunshine outside.

Emma gathered the willpower to pretend she was also calm despite being deliciously preoccupied wondering when the inert object inside her might spring to life again.

"Pancakes on a dreary morning." She chirped, her voice steady. "Yup." The sting of sitting down on her well paddled ass only served to spike her anticipation.

Hook helped her clear away and wash the dishes when they finished eating.

"Go put on panties, your choice which, and that . . ." he struggled to find the right term. "That sort of half - see through black robe thing I like so much." His eyes wandered over her body. "The one that stops halfway down the thigh. I'll be on the couch reading, and you are to stay clear of me by at least a good five feet."

"Can I talk to you?" Her voice warbled, but she managed to contain the urge to flat out whine.

"You may - but nothing flirty. I mean it, Swan. A single word designed to tempt me and I'll not fuck you until well after sunset."

"Got it." Emma replied with a nod.

Hook smiled. "Off you go then."

 _When, when, WHEN?!_ Her inner voice wondered with increasing frustration as she squirmed around on their bed and tried to give a shit about the book she was reading. Ninety minutes came and went without a single shiver from the vibrator. She was desperate to ask permission to touch herself, but that of course would be a reference to sex, a violation for which her Owner had made the consequence perfectly clear. _If I ask to get myself off now, I'll be stuck waiting for hours for anything else. HELL NO!_

She was in the middle of a sentence about a large scar on the protagonist's arm when her Toy announced itself with full force.

 _"Ah!_. . .ooooohhhhh, oh, oh . . . " she rose up on her haunches and gripped the sheets, her hips rocking wildly to win the greatest possible friction. "Hook!" she cried out. _"Hook!"_

Not one sound came from the living room, but she continued to chant his name, certain he wanted to hear her on the verge while he oscillated his control through the full spectrum of power. It only lasted a few minutes, and the thing went still again. Emma stayed in place and went on whispering his name for a long time, hoping he'd start again sooner rather than later.

 _Later,_ Emma lamented when she gave up hope and finally collapsed to the bed. _Dammit! . . . where's my fucking book?_ She fetched it off the floor and spent the next who cared how long learning about how the protagonist escaped his captors. She drew several deep breaths every time her Toy delivered a small shiver. Sometimes barely strong enough to feel. She was determined not to get too excited about what she knew instinctively would be a brief encounter.

The stupid protagonist was in the middle of a confrontation with the lead gillian when it finally happened.

"Get in here _now!"_ Hook barked.

Hardly a second passed before Emma was standing in front of him on the other side of the coffee table.

Hook tilted his head to the side and considered the picture before him. "You've been obedient, as always."

"Thank you," Emma said with a nod as her fingers drummed at her sides.

"And how have I done?" He inquired. "Have I kept you wet?"

"Mmhm." Emma drew a shallow breath. "Almost the whole time. Wet or . . . at least halfway."

"Must have been awful for you. Have I raised the bar?"

"I'm in hell," she breathed, her pulse quickening.

"Take it out of you and come here," he ordered, indicating the general area of her center. "Just toss it anywhere."

"Mmmmmm," she moaned with a happy shiver as she obeyed the order and approached him, standing between his legs.

"Don't celebrate just yet, Swan," he cautioned, running his hands over her waist and hips before slowly rolling down the panties that were soaked with half a day's worth of suspended arousal. "I promise you're not done suffering."

She stepped out of the panties when they fell to her ankles, and noticed to her deep satisfaction that Hook was half hard.

He caught her noticing and smirked. "I can wait," he murmured in a tone of silken lust. "You need to work harder, and I'll damn well see to it that you do." His right thumb wandered slowly over her clit with just enough pressure to make her breath hitch, and thigh muscles react enthusiastically. "It's my job in this arrangement of ours, yes?"

"Yes."

"To break you down entirely?

"Yes!

"Leave you marked and aching?"

"Yes, yes, you're _so good_ at it, Hook!" She'd panted frantically, excited by the dread of waiting longer to have him thrusting inside her. "So good, so, _so -"_

"Shut up!" He ordered. "God you get _pathetic when there's cock involved."_

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Do you not understand the meaning of the words _SHUT. UP!?"_ He bellowed before taking his hand away. "It's time to listen, you unbelievable slut."

She waited to receive orders while he calmed himself.

"On all fours." He pointed to the floor in front of his feet. "Goooooood. Now, you shall crawl to our Toybox and fetch me every single item one at a time - carried in your mouth of course, I assume you know I expect you to crawl back as well." He leaned forward and nuzzled her face, running his hand over her hair as though she were indeed a prized Pet. "Bring the crop out last." He whispered before returning to his relaxed posture on the couch. "Go."

It seemed to take forever as far as Emma was concerned, and all she could hope for was that perhaps Hook would get too turned on to wait anymore and fuck her blind before she finished the task.

No such luck. Though he was fully hard by the time she set the crop in his lap, he hadn't even unzipped. Instead bearing what she was sure must be a great discomfort just to play with her. Almost mock. It was terrible and perfect.

 _Happy anniversary to us._ Was their shared thought.

Her pulse went wild when Hook rose to his feet.

"Trade places with me. Still on all fours, of course."

She scrambled into position.

"I realize I've forgotten something," Hook purred as he set the crop down next to her. "Your back." He trailed his fingers delicately from the nape of her neck to the swell of her ass. "It's still pristine. I apologize for my oversight." He said as he gripped the hem of the flimsy fabric and tore it in half. "Not that your forgiveness is remotely _relevant."_ He brought the crop down with a force unparalleled in all their previous Games.

 _Take the challenge! Take the challenge!_ Emma thought desperately, crying out over and over again, her pitch and volume warbling as his aggressive attentions went on. Every time she found herself on the brink of invoking Lemon, he moved to a different spot on her back. _You have perfect instincts!_

By the time he finished, Emma's arms had given out, her head fallen to the crook of her arm and mouth pressed to the couch cushions to muffle her cries and profanity - laden encouragements.

"Now that," Hook sighed breathlessly as he ran the crop over her back in a lazy, patternless motion. "Is angry, _angry flesh."_ He had no idea how long he'd whipped his steel - willed woman, but he always kept an ear out for the Safeword and hadn't heard it, so he assumed she was still glad to receive the pain. He grabbed her arm and pulled her upright, only to kick the coffee table out of the way and toss her the ground again.

She landed propped up on her elbows, legs spread halfway.

Hook tapped the inside of their thigh with the crop. "A tad wider, dearest. I want you tight as possible, and you're so damn wet I doubt even a _massive_ cock would have trouble getting in."

She adjusted her body as ordered, and Hook ran the crop from one signature to another. The deep purples and lingering reds he'd sucked into her perfect, pale skin. The red marks would go away soon, but some of the others were so dark Emma almost thought she'd wear them forever. Not possible, of course, but the idea made every slicked muscle of her core shudder. 

_To wear you forever . . ._ she thought wistfully.

Hook let go of the crop, undid his vest and tossed it aside. Followed by the shirt. Then shoes and socks. "You reek of sex, my Toy," he rumbled as his hands hovered over his belt. "Not even fucked yet and you smell like a ten dollar whore's motel room after a long day of work." He removed the last of his clothes and began to slowly stroke himself.

Emma mewled, openly squirming with anticipation.

"No one owns me but you," she rasped, her throat run dry as she gazed up at him, eyes swimming with need. "No one _ever!"_

"Bloody right!" He dropped down between her legs, flung them up at his sides, and pitched forward to loom over her, his body pinning hers into such a position that he could throw his hips almost straight downward to plunge past her waiting entrance to the full depth of her core. Which he did in a single thrust, finally burying his rigid, straining shaft to the hilt. He paused only a moment, then brought his hips up until only a the head of his cock remained inside her, waited another half a second, and brought himself crashing down again.

Emma clutched at his arms and grit her teeth, eyes shut tight. "Uu! . . . Uu! . . . Uu!" Her every stilted noise was interspersed with shallow gasps and growls as her nails dug into his arms.

It wasn't a _fast_ rhythm he chose - but full and deep, so every inch of his length could enjoy the pleasure of plunder so decisively claimed.

Hook hoped he was using the correct amount of _force._ A force to make her _throb_ and convey a complete lack of interest in what the pursuit of his own release might be doing to her back or ass.

Even in a usual round of their private Game, the rule at this point was to be brutally selfish.

 _But this is no typical Game,_ he thought. _It's our anniversary, and she specifically asked to be pushed and made to work like never before. And -"_ he further reminded himself yet again, _she is NEVER shy about using Lemon. If she needs it, mate, she'll say it._

With that self assurance, he let go and began to thrust with total abandon, as though he meant to drive them both right through the floor. Not long after, the thundering pulse of orgasm charged down his spine like a wild animal suddenly provoked into action.

 _Yours, yours, yours, YOURS!_ He cried out to himself as he let out a long groan and spilled deep inside her center. Relief shuddered through him when the mindless thrill started to taper off, quickly replaced by the intense need to collapse.

"So," he asked, gulping down air as he spoke, hoping she was coherent enough to respond. "Do you . . . .feel . . . adequately . . . used?"

"Used?" Her head lolled around "Oh . . . yeah . . . _really_ used." Her gaze finally landed on him, and he could see the thick haze clinging to her expression. "You took fucking _everything,_ Hook. I'm not gonna feel like myself for, God . . ." A soft, exhausted chuckle escaped her. "Who knows how long."

Hook summoned all his energy to place a soft kiss on her lips. "Since this went so damn well, chuck the guidelines again and just say right now that this time next year I'll be your property."

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," Emma snuggled up next to him and rusted her head on his chest. "You've got a deal, Pirate.


	8. The Third Anniversary (or "New Places")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian took The Game up a notch on their second anniversary, and Emma plans to do the same this year. What better place to try than an isolated cabin far away from everyone?

An isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere. The perfect place for a busy couple to celebrate their third anniversary. Far, far away from Storybrook. No villains, no monsters, not even those non - evil concerns like being the savior, a daughter (Princess daughter at that), or a fifteen year old boy less than a year away from getting his driver's permit.

No. Just them.

And the Game.

Emma had total control over choosing the place, and she'd considered very carefully about what she wanted. Killian, of course, was not allowed to know a single detail nor did she consult him on a damn thing.

"I'm picking our vacation spot," she chirped casually one morning over toast and coffee, and that was the last she said of it. It happened almost four months before their anniversary, but Killian knew right away what she was talking about, and he hadn't forgotten the deal they'd made the previous year.

 _Brilliant,_ he thought, _now my imagination has four months to run wild._

And it did. Especially a month later when she announced they wouldn't be playing again until their vacation.

_You amazing, EVIL woman!_

Two whole weeks before The Day she cut him off from sex entirely. The last few days before they left, she upped it to as little physical contact as humanly possible. During which time Killian discovered how sensitive the human body could become.

The Toy and Clothes box came with them of course, as well as a gift wrapped box of what Killian just assumed was a new toy - or perhaps selection of toys? He was under strict orders not to get her anything.

"I get to spend a good portion of the week controlling your every move, sweetie." Emma explained with an affectionate smile, as though they were having a romantic fireside evening. She kissed him gently and nuzzled his nose. "I doubt you remember how to think for yourself by the time we come back. That's gift enough for me."

Killian took a long, long shower that night.

They left early in the morning. On the drive to wherever they were going, he prayed she'd start something. Anything. Cuff his arms behind the seat? Make him beg for sex? Hell, at that point he'd settle for something basic like a blindfold.

It was a two hour drive.

"I wanna go for a walk," Emma announced with a yawn and long stretch, arms above her head and back arched. A move that drew her ab muscles taught, and emphasized the curve of her breasts. "We'll unpack later."

She grabbed a backpack from the trunk, threaded her fingers with his, and off they ventured into the forest along the narrow hint of a trail. Killain sucked in a sharp breath and broke out in goosebumps at the contact. She'd touched his back that morning while putting getting milk from the fridge, and brushed by him on her way to the driver's side of the car, but nothing else all day.

_Are we doing something like at our tree back home? What the hell is in that backpack?!_

"Hawk!" Emma said with an animated little hop, pointing at the trees to he left as the majestic carnivorous bird took flight. "Wow, that's a big one. I didn't know they got that big!" She gave his hand a squeeze. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"Yes," Killian replied, genuinely trying to appreciate the animal as much as he knew he should. As a sailor, he'd sometimes witnessed the spectacle of gigantic whales, orca pods, and dolphins frolicking in the ocean, cresting and falling playfully - sometimes seeming as though they were intentionally putting on a show for their human audience. On each of those rare occasions, Hook had stood mesmerized despite himself. His usual callous and cynical nature temporarily shed as he admired and envied the happy creatures.

But this was a unique circumstance. He had no idea if Emma meant to start things that night, or the next day, or even the next. They had the place for seven days, after all (the one and only thing he knew about the excursion), and for all he knew she meant to keep him waiting until the last three. Only painless orders and mind games until then.

Emma's demeanor remained casual throughout the the stroll. Killian estimated they'd gone about three miles before turning back, but it wasn't a challenging trail. Flat. Minimal fallen trees or boulders to navigate. Not much of an exertion for either of them.

Along the way Emma withdrew binoculars from the backpack, as well as water bottles, bags of almonds and pretzels to munch on, and a birdwatcher's guidebook.

 _Nothing fun?_ Killian lamented. _Nothing at all . . . ?_

They'd only gone about a half a mile on the return trek when he felt Emma's hiking boot strike his back and went hurtling to the ground.

"Finally," he sighed into the damp soil a paper's width from his face as he clutched the soft forest debris on either side of him.

Emma crouched at his side, her foot still firm on his back. "So here's what happens. You stay here, I'll text you when I get to the cabin, and I don't care if you walk or run back."

"I'll run!" Killian declared.

"Might wanna think twice, sweetheart." She removed her foot so she could crouch low to his ear. "I've had months to plan this. Last year you took it up a notch on me and you did such a good job, I figured I owed you the same. We're going to some New Places this week, Killian. You should conserve your energy while you can."

Killian tried to swallow. "What if another person comes along?"

Emma stood up and brushed the dirt off her pants. "Doubtful. The closest cabin is ten miles away and it's not hunting season. Still . . ." She tilted his head up with the tip of her shoe. "If you hear someone coming you can either get up and duck behind a tree, or tell them you're laying here because I told you to, and you're a pussy whipped idiot. . . " She crossed her arms and shrugged. "Again I honestly don't care which. Doesn't change any of my plans. Anyhow, keep an eye on your phone on the way back, I might be sending a few little presents."

Killian didn't know or care how long he'd been laying in the soggy dirt when the text came through, rescuing his sanity in what felt like the last seconds before he lost his mind.

 _You REALLY. SHOULD NOT. RUN!_ He reminded himself every time he started to go from a quick walk to more of a jogging pace. The urge to chuck caution and pay the consequences later was nearly overwhelming, but he knew without doubt that Emma would indeed outdo his performance the previous year. _When she sets a goal . . ._

The first time his phone jingled, it was a prerecord end audio file. No narration. Only sounds.

 _"Aaaaaaaah,"_ she sighed. "Oh . . . mmmm - OH!" Click.

That message had Killian running for fifty yards before discipline prevailed.

The next message was a vid file. The shot began at her bare feet, which were crossed at the ankles, and meandered up her long legs. As if that wasn't torture enough, when it reached her thighs, they began to part, slowly moving out of frame as the shot continued to crawl upward, finally stopping and zooming in on the elegant fingers working her center.

"Such an expert," he groaned, officially gone from half hard to painfully needy as he stared at the moving image and listened to the sound of her pleasure.

Ring and index fingers had her splayed wide open so he could see it all perfectly. Middle finger entering her to a shallow depth, taking the chance at every retreat to stroke or rub her clit.

He replayed the image twice then spent several minutes running the least sexy thoughts he could conjure through his mind in a loop until he was himself soft enough to walk at least somewhat comfortably.

He'd drawn just baaaaaarely close enough to see the head of the trail when his phone buzzed again. An actual call. Video call.

Her head was thrown back against what looked like . . . _No,_ he thought incredulously. _Even she wouldn't be so bold!_

"I've . . . I've . . . " her words were shaky and stilted, oscillating in pitch. She was obviously still touching herself. "I've b - been on the porch this whole - ahfuck, oh God! this whole time - AH! AH!"

 _She's not bluffing!_ He realized with enormous shock. _She really is leaning on the porch rails!_

The image went away abruptly, but she was so loud he could still hear her in the distance.

 _Sod caution!_ He ran down the trail as though the forest behind him was engulfed in flame.

When Dominant, Emma was adept at controlling the time and pace of her orgasm, so she waited until she Killian crashed through the tree line to start really letting go. Reclined sideways on the top step wearing nothing but one of Killian's old shirts from his pirate days, her thighs tensed and released madly while one foot slid and jerked on the second step doing its best to hold her in place on the top step. A huge challenge as she lurched and bucked into her own hands.

"Mm - mm - mm - mm - mm!"

The chant went on as Killian toppled to his knees at the bottom step. All he wanted to do was plunge between her legs do everything he knew she loved there, but he knew he couldn't. Not without permission. So he stayed on his knees at the bottom step and watched her cum.

"Ah, _AH!_ AAAAAAHHHH, oh! _OH!"_

Killian grit his teeth, wishing to God he could at least undo his pants. The jeans offered no flexibility at all, so he was stuck. His distressed cock strained against what amounted to a brick wall while he crouched within reaching distance of his Owner and watched her cum.

"Mmmmmmmmmm," she slumped against the railing and sighed. "You're so lucky I let you fuck me at all. I'm sure you've figured out that you're not actually a _necessary_ element."

"Of course not," Killian agreed, shaking his head. "I'm only grateful you are willing to use me. I'd kill anyone who tried to free me from your service."

Heaven help the soul who tries, he thought.

Emma held her hand out to him. "Clean it."

He breathed in the smell of her climax as he crawled up the steps and took her index finger in his mouth.

"I guess you are a useful accessory." Emma mused.

"Thank you," he whispered before continuing with his job.

"By the way," Emma said breezily as she sat upright and gave him the other hand. "There's a reason I needed you not to see the rest of the cabin before we went on the walk. And why I needed to get back before you." She grinned, and her eyes lit up in a way that suggested she knew all the scandalous secrets in history. "I've made some adjustments. Y'know, added a few things. Things you'll have to work for. I also wanted to make sure everything was set up correctly and properly secured."

Emma laughed at her Pet's puzzled expression. "There was nothing in that gift wrapped box, it was a mislead. This place is the gift. I bought it." Her smile dripped with obscene trouble. "We can do whatever the hell we want here."

Killian was shocked, and it must have showed.

"Not only that, the trail I took you on just winds around inside ten acres. All fenced in with big red No Trespassing signs posted all over the place." She shrugged "I suppose someone could hop the fence, wander all the way through the treeline, and see you tied to a post in the yard with a ball gag in your mouth. But we're over a hundred miles away from anyone who knows us, so I assume you're willing to risk it." (One of their rules was that they could make one another risk possible discovery, but nothing as far as, for instance, sending him to a shop in Storybrook wearing a leather collar and one of his Special Shirts.) "Am I right?"

Killian's whole body burned with the (small) possibility of so much humiliation. "You can trust me to please you always - or at least try my best, and suffer if I fail." He shrugged, shoulders shaking at the mental image of such a thing happening. "What do I care if a stranger I'll never see again finds out how far I'll go to to satisfy my Princess?"

He'd finished cleaning her hands while she narrated the potential scope of his very near future, and she slithered down the steps to press against him, moving her hips around as the look of cruel condescension was replaced by flat out threat.

"Good. You know what's even better?" She reached between their bodies and massaged his agonized cock. "We probably won't be able to visit here often at all, but when we do . . .?"

Killain couldn't help but groan as Emma's hand became more aggressive.

"We can be as twisted as we want . . ."

A harsh squeeze.

"As loud as we want . . . wherever we want . . . "

_Do not cum!_

"And if we get a call from our quaint little town about any kind of trouble, we can Normal Up, head back . . . " she used her other hand to run fingers through his hair before pulling back with a harsh tug. "And as far as anyone we actually give a fuck about would know, we spent the our time hiking and rafting."

She undid the button on his pants.

_Please unzip me, please unzip me, PLEASE!_

She chuckled, completely able to read his predictable mind. _(Predictable when he's my Toy, but I'm always surprised what he comes up with Owning me!)_ of course she denied him the privilege of more freedom.

"Not blindfolded, or gagged. . ."

Killian mewled desperately.

"Certainly not chained to a wall for hours on end, begging every minute to take the crop!"

She let go of his hair, and he found that his neck barely had the strength to hold his head upright.

"Go to the front door and kneel in front of the mat!"

He obeyed and she followed him up the stairs.

"Read it!"

"Surrender or leave." _The perfect welcome mat for us._

"Well?!"

"I will never leave you," he insisted, gazing up at her. "Ever. Nothing could be more miserable!"

Emma placed her hand on the doorknob, but then paused. "You know what? You're filthy as hell. Stand up."

He stood.

"Shoes off, hands behind your back, and close your eyes."

A second later he felt what he knew would come next. They clamped down on his wrists. Not their regular police style cuffs. The other pair. Wider cuff. Tighter, but lined with a soft material for at least minimal comfort.

"I have to walk you through the house and I really can't have you seeing the living room or bedroom yet." With that, she opened the door, pushed him over the threshold, and guided him along to the bathroom.

"You can open your eyes now." She said as she undid his cuffs and hung them in the hook meant for a robe.

 _The bathroom at least looks ordinary. What has she done to the rest of our new Playhouse that she won't let me see it?_ Although brining furniture into their home designed specifically for bondage purposes was out of the question, they'd both researched a bit out of curiosity. Thus, plethora of tantalizing possibilities all but took over Killian's mind as he waited for further orders.

"Clothes off. Put them in the basket, and get in the shower." She waited until he was in place to continue. "Do you see where I've marked it?" She asked. There was a black line drawn next to the hot/cold dial on the 'hot' side. I'm sure you've figured out that I managed to sneak up here a few times in the last four months to get it ready, and one thing I did is find out exactly how hot faucet water can get and how long human skin can take it. That Mark?" She nodded. "That's just shy of scalding as long as you're not in it for too long. You're going to turn it to that spot, then turn around and do everything you can to stay hard." She picked up the phone sitting on the sink counter and opened the stopwatch app. "It takes about a minute to get to full temp, so I'm setting this for six. If you're not still hard when you step out, I'll do it, but I will be _pissed."_ She set the timer and left the room.

 _Is she SURE humans can take this?_ He wondered as searing water rained down on his back and his erection began to wither. _Yes._ He was certain she'd done her homework carefully in preparation for this. _She'd never truly endanger you. . ._ he closed his eyes tight and tried desperately to picture the most erotic images he possibly could as he stroked himself. _The time I made Emma tell me words and phrases describing her and wrote them all over her body. . . 'cock slut' . . ._ he struggled to remember more. _'Useless without orders' . . . God this hurts, ASK FOR HER HELP!_ He ignored his body's plea, instead firming his grip and speeding his stroke even more. _'Begs for cum'. . . uh . . . 'devours cock' . . . 'obedient Toy' . . . and . . . ? AND?!_

"Fucks like a whore!" He yelled at the top of his lungs just as the timer went off.

"Yes," Emma purred as she stepped back into the room wearing a black fishnet dress with nothing underneath. "You really do."

Her smile went away when she saw that he was only half hard. Though he did feel the terrible sting of letting her down, he was amazed he'd managed even that.

"I tried, I swear it!" He whined.

Emma heaved a deep sigh and looked beyond annoyed as she dropped to her knees and sucked with all the enthusiasm of a bored housewife who was a thousand percent done with her husband.

The blowjob may have been unenthused, but it was skillful enough to get him hard again, and to his surprise, she kept going until he came. She turned her head and spit it in the shower when he finished.

"Thanks Killian," she said, her voice cold and caustic. "Thanks for ruining that. The bedroom is across the hall. Go." She stood up and followed behind.

The bed was against the wall in the center of the room, and fixed to the wall directly across from that was something Killian recognized from browsing bondage websites.

A Saint Andrew's cross.

Crisscrossed wood beams with eye bolts running down the sides to affix manacles to wrists and ankles at whatever height one pleased. This one had a platform about six inches off the ground for a person to stand on, and a few feet away was a two rung ladder - he assumed for a person to stand on if they wanted someone's hands cuffed to the higher bolts.

"Oh," Killain whispered. "That is _genius!"_

"You think I need to be told that?" Emma yelled as she kicked him into the room. He barely managed to hold his footing. "Those beams are fucking heavy -" she shook her head as if a bug had flown near her face. "Dammit, I'm so pissed off that I forgot something!" She stalked out of the room. The bathroom door was still open so Killian watched as she yanked a towel off the rack. "I was going to get you straight out of the shower and chained to that," she indicated the fantastic object as she threw him the towel. "Dry off - then I'd blow you, crop you as long as I felt like, and show you the rest of the house." She paused. "Then a few other things I might still let you have."

His cock twitched a bit at her words, but was too recently spent to do anything else.

Emma's tirade went on. "But now you have to pay for your stupid failure, so I have to go off plan and think of a good enough punishment."

"Have you?" Killian warbled as he ran the towel hurriedly from head to foot.

Emma put her hands on her hips and looked him over. "Hmmmmmmm. Yeah I got it." She walked to the closet and withdrew a metal bar with manacles attached to both sides, then a pair of his old black leather pants from the Pirate days. "Put on the pants, Spread your arms out and bend your head." She bowed her head in demonstration, and when he had the pants taken care of, she placed the bar at the nape of his neck. "Hold the bar at the ends while I get you cuffed in."

Once he was properly secured, she walked to the bed and tore off all the blankets, dropping them in a messy mound next to the bed.

"See these?" She lifted a restraint at the foot of the bed that had been hiding under the mattress. "There's another set up there." She nodded toward the head of the bed. "Make the bed. I'll decide if it's neat enough, and when it is I'll strap you down, and make you as mad as I am right now."

She sat on a cozy stuffed lounge chair in the corner and read a book while he struggled to accomplish the assigned task. It proved more difficult than Killian thought it would be, but not too bad. Thus far, it didn't feel like a punishment.

_Which means she's ramping up to something . . ._

When he announced he was finished, she inspected the bed and freed him. Only to shackle him to the bed a moment later, his arms and legs splayed out with a bit of slack to squirm around. She took a small cedar box off the bedside stand and placed it next to his body, then pointed to the St. Andrew's cross as she strolled to the foot of the bed.

"That thing is the tip of the iceberg, you should see the rest of the house." Her voice dropped to an octave of dark chocolate and spice. "Do you know how I did it all, honey? I hired some help." She leaned down and slid her arms along the bedframe with a soft sigh. "A few guys to handle all the nails and screws."

He never got offended when other men noticed Emma's beauty, even if that notice came complete with a dirty leer. But the thought of another man actually _having her_ was his personal nightmare, and she knew it.

"One of them was nothing to write home about, but the other? _Mmmmmmmmm."_ Her eyes fluttered shut. "Damn, he was sexy. Taaaaaallllll, and an athlete too, so, y'know," she giggled, "really in shape. Especially the arms. Did I mention tall?"

Her smile grew wider as Killian clenched his jaw.

"And he had a great mouth. Mmmmmmmm . . . every time he talked I thought _'you must be great at licking pussy.'"_

He knew her story was part of the game, but every word still felt like a paper cut. A shallow wound, but oh God, the _sting!_ He hissed, writhing against his restraints as she went went on, her tone growing heavier and heavier with lust as she spoke.

"There are two ways you can imagine me paying them, Killian. One: I said thank you, handed them cash, and waved as they drove away." She paused and enjoyed watching him brace for option number two. "Or maybe I only did that with the one guy. Maybe I asked the other one to let me blow him instead." Emma rolled her shoulders, and let her head fall back as she let out a deep moan, fully committed to the fantasy. "He didn't say a word, Killian. Just pushed me to the ground and unzipped. Imagine that, sweetheart. Me kneeling right here, in this _exact spot,_ with another man's dick in my mouth." She waited for his reaction to amp up, but it didn't.

"Picture it!" She barked. "I can tell you're trying not to! Do you want me to leave the room?"

"No."

"Call all this off and drive us to an adorable vacation lodge closer to town?"

"No!" Killian's pulse hitched, half afraid she would actually follow through on the threat.

"Something with a beautiful view? We could find a few nice restaurants, or go dancing -"

"No!" He mewled breathlessly, pulling even harder on his restraints. "I'll picture it, I promise. Everything . . ." _(She always does something AMAZING when you do especially well with a punishment, mate! Don't cheat yourself!)_ "Every detail . . . I swear."

Emma laughed softly as she watched him wince and writhe. "Good. Where was I? Oh right, I was on my knees ready to pay. I wanted to do my best because he'd been so helpful. He deserved quality payment. I got my mouth around the head of his cock, but then we ran into a problem." She stared at her trapped, squirming Pet, her eyes dancing with vicious glee. "Can you guess what it was?"

Killian knew, and he clenched his jaw so hard he wondered if it was medically possible to fracture it that way. "Yes."

Emma leaned forward enough to stroke his straining legs. "Clearly."

He shut his eyes tight and did his best to prepare for the oncoming verbal assault. Despite the instinctive burn of jealousy, he couldn't help but be proud of her boldness.

_How far will she take it?_

"I could barely take him any deeper, and I tried." She flashed a sultry grin that slowly melted into a sneer. " Are you furious yet, you _fuck up?"_

He couldn't even muster the words to respond. Just growled and kicked as the image of Emma's mouth stretched wide around this faceless man's impossible cock consumed his mind.

She shrugged off his lack of reply and continued. "He tried to stop me right away, but I wanted to suck him off so bad I was already wet - _oooooooooh,_ you wouldn't believe how wet - it was _unreal!"_ A sullen pout fell over her features. "I asked him to please let me keep trying, but he said no."

Killian swallowed and drew a shaky breath, desperate to make sure she couldn't see how relieved he was that the story was over.

"Instead he threw me over the bed like this -" she pitched forward and landed with her palms flat on the mattress.

 _Of course it doesn't end there!_ He admonished himself. _She'd never end a story on her own failure!_

"Got my pants down and . . "

"I know, I know," the former badass Pirate whined like a hapless schoolyard scapegoat, "he fucked you."

"No. He warned me." She sighed. "I still don't know why. The man helped me assemble a bunch of bondage furniture, he had to know the kind of fuck I could take. Still, he said a dick like his could hurt so much, he wouldn't believe I really, _really_ wanted it unless I begged." Her hips started to rock as though seeking friction against the empty air. "And you know how good I beg, don't you?"

Killian nodded as the mental image became even more vivid. Her eyes wide and pleading, her voice all trembling whimpers and needy cries - but most of all it was her words that got him hard. _'Please, please Hook! You can crop me head to toe! Make me crawl after you every second we're alone! Not go down on me for a MONTH, I'll take it all and say thank you every day, but please fuck me now!' . . ._ And she could go on and on like that, humiliating herself beyond belief.

"I know," he warbled. "You're stunning at it. Utterly."

"Yesssssssss," she purred, the pace of her hips quickening somewhat. "I can't remember the exact words I used with him. Something along the lines of 'I want it to, I'll say the word Orange if it's too much, but my pussy wants to take it so bad I don't care if I'm in bed for weeks to recovering.' _Mmmmmmmm,"_ she sighed. "Finally the guy believed me. He had to ease in first, of course, but then?" She thrust hard against the bed frame, tensing and hissing like she could truly feel it, then went on lurching violently back and forth as she struggled to hold her half prone posture.

"Uu - uu- uu - uu - uu!" Her performance perfectly imitated the effect of a strong, driving fuck.

And he saw it all. _'You can't!'_ He wanted to shout at the invisible man. _She is NOT your Princess, you've no appreciation for -_ he halted the train of thought immediately. _MIND THE GAME, JACKASS! You are HER Plaything and you will do as she commands,or call yourself a failure! With his pride as a submissive on the line (pride and submission being a strange and twisted partnership),_ he accepted the bone deep burn of hatred, and resumed his job. Rather than demand that his rival release what he'd lawlessly taken, Killian pictured the event in full.

He could see her end of things with his own eyes. Hair thrashing, eyes clenched shut and mouth flung open as she cried and whined with increasing volume.

 _Now fill on the blanks as you were told. Each detail . . ._ A moment's hesitation could be the difference between a reward and Lemon, so he charged ahead without pause. _He's gripping her hips . . ._

Emma suddenly flung her body down, chest flat to the mattress and forehead fallen between her hands, which clenched the blanket beneath her for dear life. Killian adjusted his mental image accordingly while her thighs thrust over and over again against the footboard with rattling force.

_He's got her by the back of the neck and pushes her down, then keeps a hand on her back to see she stays._

Shrill declarations of praise for the man's cock and his ability to wield it poured nonstop from her mouth in broken syllables.

 _He adjusts his angle a bit . . . why? (Every detail) . . . To make sure his cock leaves her full depth stretched and sore. She begged, he delivers._ His gut twisted into angry knots.

"I, it, ah! _AH!_ He - was - ah - _ohfuckyes!_ So, so amm - mmm - mazing, I CAME! I CAME! I CAME sooooooooooOOOOOOO . . . " her final shout grew and grew, then quieted to soft, happy sounds as she went slack on the mattress.

Again Killian's body flooded with premature relief.

"Mmmmmmm . . ." Emma pushed herself up just high enough to look at Killian. "He told me how I was better than cash . . ." She mused lazily. "How he'd never nailed a woman who could take him 'till he came . . .

 _We're almost there, almost there, almost there,_ he chanted to himself, ready kill the man he could now clearly see in his imagination. The man leered at him, standing smug behind his conquest as she remained bent over the bed.

She stood up and undid his ankle restrains as she went on. "Before me, he said it was all 'no, stop!' midway through. There were Handjob women . . . 'cum on my body' women . . . 'I'll watch you jerk off'. . . " she swept her disheveled hair to one side and started to crawl slowly up Killian's body. "But I took every _second_. . ." She gave him a tiny smile when she came to rest at his waist and leaned over to free his arms. "And I stayed wet. I stretched around that cock like a rockstar! Every time he went deeper it felt like too much, like I was just too tight, but by the end? Sweetheart, I was taking it almost _easily."_ Her head rolled back as she peeled off her fishnet dress and guided his newly freed hands up the contours of her body. "And he was right about the pain, I did everything I could to avoid walking for days . . . "

She dug her nails into his chest so hard his back arched and he had to bite his lower lip to keep from yelling as she scraped down his torso. "But I'd do it again." She leaned down until her nose was less than a centimeter from his. "The next time you ruin my plans, I will strap you to this bed take it from him right in front of you!"

Killian drew a deep breath and swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat. "That's only if there's a next time though, right?" He asked hopefully. "I've paid for this time?"

"Yes, you've paid." Emma said as she moved back enough to undo his pants and stroke him. "Really nicely." Her tone rang of genuine praise. "I know how much you hate the thought of me with another man."

Killian nodded, his eyes fluttering shut to enjoy the gentle touch of his Princess.

"But not women," she said with a bemused sigh. "You'd be happy to leer at me and another woman while we came."

"I apologize, my perfect . . . my _stunning_ Princess. I swear, I hate myself for for it. A worthier man would - _ah!"_ He gasped as she increased the friction of her grip around his rigid arousal. "Would get over it and allow you anything you desire." He winced, the pleasure of her touch and disgust at the thought of her with another man warring in his gut like opposing armies both dedicated to their cause. "I am meant only for your pleasure, oh, oh! I . . . no other p - purpose, and my failure -"

He gasped as she straddled him and lowered herself so slowly he shook with lust, eager to be surrounded completely by her heat.

"For m - my - fail - ure . . ." He stopped to gather his wits. "Ooooooooh . . . Swan, you are so _generous_ not to toss me away!"

"Would you come crawling back if I did?" Emma asked as she guided his hands to her hips and prompted him to lead their pace.

"Yes!" Killian hissed, trying not to buck into her and only pull her her forward and back as she rocked her hips. "I'd crawl back and beg! Beg you to accept my one _selfish_ limit in exchange for - oh _God_ you feel so fucking good! - for months of total- ah! Ah! Absolute Slavery!" His words spilled out fast, the tone oscillating from quivering and shallow to a frantic shout. "I'd b - b - beg to be terribly hurt! The crop day in and day out! Leash and shackles! Deny me all but bread and water! _Anything_ to be back in your hands!"

"Good," Emma panted, her core shuddering with every declaration as she leaned down and reached for the small box she'd placed next to him.

Killian gripped her hips tight with anticipation, the curiosity causing him to slow their rhythm.

She withdrew three long metal talon - like objects with bands beneath to fit over her fingertips. She put them on her left ring, middle, and index fingers, then used her pinky and thumb to put three more on her right fingertips.

"How's this?" She dug the blunted ends into his chest.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" He cried out, arching off the bed and struggling not to let the harsh pain distract him from Emma's pleasure. _"Yes!"_ He cried as he bucked into her and gripped her sides for dear life, almost afraid he'd fall off the edge of the planet when he came.

_You're my anchor, Swan. My tether._

"Yes!" He cried. _"Yes,_ bruise my skin! TEAR AT ME!" I, I, I deserve, _I deserve it!"_

The strong metal claws raked down his flesh. If not for their bluntness he was sure he'd be terribly injured. As it was all he felt was pain. Giving him pain meant she was willing to spare him the agony of ending the Game.

Torso.

Sides.

Chest.

Emma ordered him to flip them around so she could punish his back, too. She let him thrust wildly for a minute, then dug into his shoulder blades and ordered him to cum.

She wasn't in full orgasm, but close enough that he could feel the tense and release of her slick walls around his shaft. That plus the intense sensation of metal talons assaulting his back was enough to drive him over the edge.

Emma panted and mewled softly while he came shouting words of gratitude, and breathless promises of complete obedience. She gave him no time to recover before ordering him down on her, and intentionally distracted herself as much as possible to ensure he'd be at the task for a while.

She thought back to twenty year old Emma. That girl had never even done an intent search on this subject, figuring she'd rather not know what was out there beyond the basics. She was certain she'd never have a real Playmate anyhow, so knowing (and wanting) such things would only make her feel more isolated and ashamed. With those factors now completely obliterated, she felt completely free and fearless.

When they first began to discuss the hypothetical idea of a third person, the typical stereotype emerged. Emma proved to be heteroflexible within the context of the game. Unless she was, say, rewarding Killian with a show for being a good Pet, or Hook was demanding she lick pussy, she had no genuine sexual interest in women. Killian, meanwhile, was perfectly comfortable acknowledging the beauty and/or appeal of an attractive man, but being truly honest (A MUST when writing new rules) he proved to be just territorial/possessive enough that he was sure he wouldn't be able to stomach watching Emma service anyone but him. Hypocritical as hell, but true. He'd sooner take on a man himself if his Princess demanded, but even that was too uncomfortable for them to allow it in Gameplay.

 _He's so good at this,_ Emma thought as he found a spot inside her that sent warm arousal coursing over his fingers while his talented tongue traced feathery lines and circles around her clit. _Other thoughts!_

 _. . . we'll need a break to eat something after this. Protein. The key to a good Game is pacing. Hurt and/or fuck hard. Challenge. Rest. Go again a different way. We really do know what we're doing!_ They'd figured out all sorts of ways to keep the submissive in his or her place without any physical exertion on either of their parts. _Sometimes the challenge is patience._

She already knew that patience would be Killian's next challenge after they ate.

 _It's all about staying focused on the reward when you're shackled in the closet, or sitting at your Owner's feet while they watch Netflix . . . remember him in the beginning?_ She thought, stroking his hair with pride as he lapped and lapped at her center. _He was amazed I could stay wet just sitting there with my hands and feet taped together. Or following him around with a gag in my mouth while he did random chores._

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm." She moaned, letting herself nudge a little bit closer to orgasm.

 _He gets it now. Men can't stay *physically* aroused for so long the way a woman can stay wet, but he knows what it's like to feel ready as hell through a three hour pause. . ._ she thought back to a time when she ended an hours long pause by changing into one of their Play Outfits right in front of him. She spent another ten minutes touching him everywhere but there. After the long wait and teasing, he came almost the moment she started stroking him. A sin he payed for by losing the right to touch her until after sunset, meanwhile she could get him hard and ride to her heart's delight.

Killian nuzzled and nipped at her sex - coated thighs while his left thumb pressed firm to her clit and rubbed with determination.

 _Now you're serious!_ Emma grinned, beginning to writhe and let go of other thoughts.

His other four fingers pet and massaged her centre until he knew she was perched on the edge. Then he sunk two fingers into her, curling and stretching as they went.

The whole digit. Fingertips. Knuckles. All could be used to great effect in service of a woman's pleasure, and Killian knew how to wield all three with uncommon skill.

 _The training made you great,_ he reminded himself. Long before he started talking on the submissive role and she would make precise demands, his role of Owner had been helpful as well. After being granted the prize of full on sex for surviving whatever trial he'd devised, he felt honor bound to note the reactions elicited by his every move, and hence improved tenfold as a lover both in and out of Gameplay. _*She* made you great. 'What the hell is that!? Do it this way!' . . . 'Are you trying to rub my clit OFF MY BODY? Tongue only, cock if you lick well enough' . . . the list goes on._ He'd discovered many things on his own as well, and it all amounted to a level of creativity and hyper awareness that would have shamed the old Hook. He laughed at that man's bloated opinion of his sexual prowess. _You were a hack, mate. Had some nerve waving all that arrogance around like a flag! . . . OH!_ His thought process was interrupted when he pushed a third finger in and the slippery muscles inside her went mad, clutching and shivering, pressing eagerly against the friction as he stroked a particularly sensitive spot.

"Ah! _Aaaaaahhhhhh,_ yeah! You're - worth - I'll - keep - _YOU!"_

 _And she's gone._ Killian thought with delight, still tending to her pleasure in time to the repeating crest and fall of her climax.

"Thank you." He whispered when she finished, resting his head on her belly.

"I'll let you see the rest of the house in a minute."

"May I crawl?" He asked, since the only absolutely forbidden question was 'why' unless the Owner stated otherwise.

"I seriously haven't beat you down enough yet?" She asked, pulling him up by the hair.

He shook his head. "We've a whole cabin full of new things to play with, yes?"

"That's right." Emma replied.

"Use me on all of them, Swan. Please."

She chuckled. "I'm not gonna spend my entire day indulging your need to be humiliated, _Toy."_ She let go of his hair. "Just the thought is exhausting."

"We do have a whole week." He whined pitifully as he dusted her belly and chest with delicate kisses. "We could alternate normal days and Playdays." The kisses rose to her throat and up the elegant line of her outstretched neck. "I just want to know . . . " kisses, kisses, kisses, "I've taken everything I can before we leave."

Emma made him wait until after lunch to see it all. He crawled to the dining table and ate with his eyes closed.

"Okay."

He heard her rise from the chair and felt a wide leather collar close around his neck.

"Stand up."

He obeyed.

She attached a thin chain leash to his collar, and ordered him to walk whether he liked it or not as she drug him to the center of the room.

"Open your eyes."

He found himself looking at a bizarre combination of rustic cabin decor, and several items of bondage furniture. His leash was only about a foot and a half long, and Emma jerked the chain as though prompting a horse to move.

Across the room from the couch was an eight foot tall sturdy wooden frame with ankle restraints at the base and eyebolts for more manacles running all the way up the sides and top.

"I've got all kinds of cuffs in those cabinets." She pointed to a lovely China display hutch in the far corner. "Some metal, some softer, different chain lengths . . . some toy options. A few of the toys are specific to me, but mostly they're for either of us."

Killian drew a ragged breath. _"Amazing."_

"It's pretty similar to what's in the bedroom, only with this there's 350 exposure." She chuckled and moved close to hear. "Imagine me in it, Killian," she purred. "My arms pulled way up . . ."

He drew up the mental image, and it made him shiver.

"My legs could be chained together, or maybe high and wide."

Killian whimpered. He wasn't actually recovered enough from the previous events to get hard again, but that fact annoyed the rest of his body. His mind took the brunt of the torture, as it was swimming with images of a helpless crop - marked Emma.

_With a toy inside her that I control from the couch._

Still nothing from his cock but a slight twitch.

_Damn you, male body!_

His eyes went to something pushed against the wall that looked like a two step ladder, only it was angled wrong and included padding. Emma followed his gaze.

"Yeeeeeaaaaah," she whispered, trailing her fingers down his spine before yanking him along toward the thing. "It's a discipline bench. You kneel here on this tilted beam, and lean over the top beam. I could cuff you to those handles or just make you hold on. The storage chest/coffee table is pretty standard. Various gear inside, I put on a longer than necessary top and added the legs for tying up possibilities - do you see why I said you couldn't take it all in one day? We're not even done yet. I really love this next one!"

Kitty corner from the couch was what would have been a normal chair except there was no middle to the seat. It was split in two in a V formation with footrests five inches off the ground. Manacles attached to the lower back legs, and bolts on the upper back legs to provide another option. He knew exactly what it was.

"T chair!" It was an item they both found especially enticing. The idea was that the Owner sat in the chair, and the Pet knelt in the empty space between their legs, and performed the obvious job with hands cuffed in such a way that they physically couldn't move their head too far away.

The taste of lunch in his mouth had replaced the taste of Swan's orgasm, and he wished he still had it. It would add that much more to the mental image.

Emma sighed. "Me and my little helpers made all this stuff from scratch. Everything but the actual naughty accessories came from Home Depot."

Killian couldn't help but grin at the thought of some clueless guy in an orange smock helping Emma select wood she would use to build obscene furniture.

"I did get a great deal on the cabin and land, but no way would I have been able to afford ready made stuff." She pressed against him, pulling his groin flush against hers. "So I googled plans, made some connections with a few twisted people - thank you, Internet - and here we are, sweetheart." She pulled the leash and granted him a long, meandering kiss. By the time she pulled away an outside observer would think the two were just making out like a normal couple if not for the way Killian was dressed.

_Leather pants, no shirt, leash and collar. Not exactly a guy's Sunday Best._

"So this is it?" Asked Killian.

Emma nuzzled his nose. "Just one more thing. And it's what you're doing next." She walked him to the back porch and pointed to a plain wood pole sticking out the ground a few paces shy of the treeline. "Don't worry, it's sanded and sealed, you won't get splinters."

His heart raced. _New places? Understatement!_

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he could almost hear it asking: _is this too far? Do you need to Lemon out?_

Despite the fact that his heart was pounding at the thought of being out in the open, their location and circumstance made the odds of discovery ridiculously slim.

Killian drew a shaky breath and answered her unspoken question. "Am I to be shackled or roped?"

"Rope," Emma replied with a smile. "It's more rustic."

"Always the details with you."

It was a much softer conversation than they usual had during the Game, but he figured they were both too caught up on their strange, complex version of romance to bother repressing the usual anniversary sentiments.

Emma fetched a rolled up length of nylon rope from a hook next to the door, as well as two wooden plaques from the hook next to it. There were several plaques hanging there, all painted with words. The two Emma selected bore the phrase _'Pussy slave'_ and _'available for use'_ respectively.

"What do you think?" She asked. "This one?" She held up the 'slave' option. "Your choice."

He knew it was a challenge. To see if he had the balls to not only compromise his dignity out in the open, but to then make a (hypothetical) public whore of himself as well.

 _One step further than ever before . . ._ he mulled it over with the seriousness of a man on jury duty. _What's the verdict?_ In the end it was the promise of reward that made the decision for him.

"That one." He pointed to the sign announcing the free use of his body.

 _Look how proud she is!_ Killian beamed as she wound her hand around his leash and walked him to the pole.

The leash came off, collar remained on, and Emma assured him she'd have all the windows open in case he needed the Safeword before she trotted back to the house.

Luckily the weather that day was neither too hot nor too cold, and Killian was quite used to being tied up. (Sex games notwithstanding, he'd pissed off a lot of people as a Pirate, and many of them managed to capture him over the years, if only temporarily.) Given his familiarity with imprisonment, the long ream of soft rope around his midsection and lower legs felt downright comfortable. So he gazed into the dense forest. Birds and squirrels darting about. Even a deer.

When he heard a branch snap to his immediate right, he assumed it was another deer.

Until he saw dark black hair and realized that, though he could barely see it, there was a narrow path that let out less than twenty yards away from him. He clenched his jaw and shook violently.

_If you can hardly see them, they may not notice you!_

When it became obvious that the (female) person was headed his way, he opened his mouth to bellow Lemon at the top of his lungs and yell out a menacing threat like _'you're on private property, turn back or I call the cops!'_ before she could gain a clear view of his body - much less the open solicitation around his neck.

He got at far as "Le -" when something struck his notice. She was in full view, obviously close enough to see him, but she had yet to react in any way.

_And no one hikes or hunts dressed like that . . ._

Her top was short sleeved snug red lace, the lace so flimsy he could see the bra beneath. Likewise red. Tight black jeans, simple black shoes.

 _No! . . . would she? . . . No!_ But the only reason they hadn't ventured into this territory before was because everyone knew everyone in Storybrook, and all it would take is for one Playmate to get drunk or pissed off and start talking. Also, with the singular exception of Captain Hook, the idea of banging a fairytale creature whose stories she'd grown up with creeped Emma out.

 _But now we're far away from -_ then he noticed what the woman had around her neck.

A collar.

_My God, she did!_

The woman finally acknowledged she could see him when she reached the head of the trail and came sauntering over, a pleased smirk shining on her face.

"I owe Boss Lady fifty dollars." She chuckled in a mocking tone as she traced her fingers over the letters on his plaque. "I didn't think anyone would go this far. If you chose the other sign my orders were to say nothing and turn back."

Killian squirmed in his ropes and struggled to form words as a pulsing erection ached against the cruel force his extremely restrictive pants.

"Brilliant! She knows how I need to be treated." He assured the woman with a deep sigh. "Always."

"Yes I do." Said Emma as she approached from behind. "Here's what's happening," she informed him as she came around to face him and drew her arms around the black haired woman's hourglass figure. The woman accepted and leaned into the embrace, her hands caressing Emma's thighs. "I own you and her. But we both own you. Got it?"

Killian nodded, too overwhelmed to bother with words anymore.

"This is a whole new level of obedience, Killian, so here's what you get in return . . ." she undid the woman's pants and slithered a hand beneath the red lace panties.

The woman's eyes fluttered, but her gaze never left his as a wobbling, hungry smile tugged at her lips.

"You're going to sit in our new chair, Killian, and she . . ." Emma brought the hand that wasn't down the woman's pants around her throat. ". . . is going to be cuffed in and suck you off while I film."

 _This hurts!_ He could barely tolerate the pain of being trapped in his pants while he imagined this new woman's mouth on his cock. _It's too much!_

"Then you're going to tell me - honestly - how she did." Emma tightened her grip on the woman's throat and forced her head to the side to growl on her ear. "If my Toy gives you anything less than a _stellar_ review? You'll never play with us again."

Killian could read the look on the woman's face as though it were his first language. She was desperate to do a good job and gain a reward.

"And if . . . if I do it right?"

Emma let go of her throat and dug deeper into the panties, middle finger brushing her damp clit.

"Then _you_ sit in the chair and . . ." Emma shivered openly, thrilled at Killian's lust - drunk stare. "Well, he's done so much today, so I'll let him relax and film while _I_ lick you."

"Oooooooooh," the woman sighed in Killian's general direction. "No wonder you work so hard."

Emma threw her toward the poll. "Untie him." She massaged him through his pants while the woman struggled with the knots, eager to get to the next part and prove she knew how to handle cock. "Oh, and before I forget, Brown Eyes -"

Killian assumed he was to call her only by names of authority, but it excited him to know Emma apparently didn't want him to know her name. The thought was a momentary distraction from the rest of Emma's declaration.

"The Toy and I are going to rest for a few days after this, but then _he's_ going to take control." She snatched the woman away the moment Killian's ropes fell loose enough for him to finish the job. "And he can be one sick, mean fucker," she growled.

Every time she praised him he felt like a King. Even when playing a slave.

She bit the woman's earlobe hard enough to elicit a gasp. "I have no idea what he'd do with both of us, but if you get him off good today, and think you can handle it -"

The woman nodded vigorously.

Killian did try to objectively judge her cocksucking skills, but as he came and she swallowed, he realized it was difficult to separate how much he owed to her throat, and how much he owed to looking around the room and imagining what wonderful new deviant challenges he could devise in the very near future.

He decided she did indeed deserve a stellar review.

Emma and Killian fell into bed completely spent that night, but both were looking forward to Thrusday. Brown Eyes would be back, and Killian already had a few ideas.


	9. U breakable

**IMPORTANT NOTE: I am so sorry it's taken me nearly a year to post another chapter of this! I had it almost completely finished in February, but then I contracted a life threatening illness. I'm basically fine now, but it was a hard recovery. I struggled to get the hang of writing again for weeks, so I hope this chapter is okay. Let me know if I'm not back up to snuff yet! ;-)**

Saturday's event was just the new playmate's basic audition. She gave Killian head, came when Emma went down on her, and left. It wasn't until the next day that Emma emailed her with strict orders.

_'Thursday. No later than 9 a.m. Arrive in Church Whore attire (I have explained what that means, so get it wrong and you'll be sent home), no underwear. We also want you wearing a ball gag and cuffs. When you get here you are to stand absolutely still at the edge of the tree line and wait until we're ready to play.'_

Killian and Emma agreed on no physical contact at all in the meantime. Even masturbation was conducted quietly and in private. Emma did remain in absolute control of Killian, but they agreed that she wouldn't order him to do anything normally associated with Gameplay like crawl at her feet. She just told him when to get up, get dressed, what to wear (normal clothes only), what to eat, etc.

Conserving their energy and imagination for Thursday took top priority.

They also wrote up two new sets of rules. Cabin Play, and Plaything's Contract. At home the whole point of suddenly "announcing" an urge to submit was to give the Game spontaneity. But any of course a trip to the cabin would require advance planning, which would come with the implicit understanding of Gameplay (in one for or another). So they agreed that during a cabin visit both of them should get a turn to be in charge. However, the one who began as submissive would have to wait until their Owner decided to give up control. That way there would still be a bit of uncertainty involved. The Owner's "switch word" was Saturn.

"And we should alternate the starting Owner every visit." said Emma. "Like, for our next visit you own me until we switch."

Killian agreed. "And whoever owns first must initiate active Gameplay early enough to allow a few day's rest somewhere in the mix."

"Good thought!" Emma smiled as her Pet wrote down the rule. "I'm glad I let you have an opinion."

In the end, Cabin Play rules read:

1\. We try to visit the cabin at least once a year

2\. We alternate the starting Dom

3\. We both get a turn at Sub/Dom

4\. The switch word is Saturn

5\. The Sub is allowed ONE unsolicited request per visit

6\. Human Toys (like Brown Eyes) will be exclusive to Cabin Play

7\. We co - own Human Toys, but the current Dom decides when and how to share

Just before they went to sleep that night, Emma muttered their switch word.

The sweet, adorable couple spent their Thursday morning snuggled together on the porch swing while Brown Eyes waited patiently a the edge of the treeline, still and silent, watching her Owners coo and chat.

"Mmmm," Killian sighed as he nuzzled Emma's throat and ran his hand down the smooth, soft cotton of her dainty blue skirt. "A perfect choice of wardrobe for the pair of you, Swan. She looks a proper demure thing, save for the gag and manacles."

"Thank you." Emma happily accepted the praise. "Should we use her now, honey? Or do You wanna wait?"

"Hmmmmmm . . . " Killian gazed thoughtfully at the metal collar and solid steel leach propped against the porch railing waiting for someone to entrap. "She has stood there for over an hour." He ran his hand beneath Emma's skirt and dug his fingers into the meat of her thigh. "Remember Pet, you're to help me with her."

"I remember," Emma breathed.

Killian moved further up her thigh. "I've a difficult enough time breaking down one slave to her liking." He dug in harder. "The thought of two is exhausting." He grabbed her by the shoulders without warning and tossed to her feet. "Go fetch the thing."

_Finally!_ Brown Eyes thought as her new Owner approached, and perked up even more when she saw what Owner had in her hands.

Emma locked the metal collar around Brown Eyes' throat and thrust her forward with the attached rod, which was about three feet long.

"Move!" Emma commanded, steering her from behind. When they reached the top step of the porch, she gave the rod a harsh downward tug.

Brown Eyes fell to all fours in front of the doormat. A small rectangular black box with the words Plaything's Contract lay on the mat.

"That's for you, obviously." said Killian as Emma removed Brown Eyes's, collar, restraints, and gag, and returned to snuggle in his lap. "Read it out loud. Stutter once and we'll make you clean the entire cabin before we so much as touch you."

"Yes, Sir." She got out the piece of paper, smoothed it down, and began:

"One: I have no rights but the Safeword. Two: I have no choices or opinions unless told otherwise. Three: the question why is never to be asked. Violating this rule will result in dire consequences, possibly my dismissal. . . " she paused to absorb the thought. "Four: I will refer to my Owners by titles of authority unless told to do otherwise. Six: I exist solely to be owned, fucked, and punished. I have no value outside of this function." A few spaces down there was one final sentence. "If you are twisted enough to agree to these terms, sign at the bottom of the page."

"Sign 'Brown Eyes,'" Emma added, a little annoyed that she and Killian hadn't thought to make the expectation clear. "Playthings don't need names. You will never _ever_ have one while you're here."

Heat surged through Brown Eyes' body as she snatched the pen from the box and hurriedly scrawled the assigned moniker. They'd barely begun and already Emma and Killian were proving to be the most creative Masters she'd ever submitted to. _Letting go of my NAME!_ A small detail on the surface, but making her shed it completely as a pre-requisite for official Plaything status? _Fantastic!_

"I do hope Brown Eyes minds her manners," Killian mused. "I loathe an ungrateful Toy."

Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and nipped his earlobe. "I think she'll be good. You should have seen the look on her face when I fastened the brace around her neck. She's probably already wet."

Killian chuckled as the smartly dressed woman at his doorstep waited for further instruction. "An eager thing are we?"

Emma smiled and squirmed in his lap hoping to feel at least the beginning of hardness, but finding nothing. Her Pirate gave a knowing smirk as he pushed her to her feet.

"Go see if you're right." He whispered.

Emma wandered over and knelt down behind their waiting Toy. She pushed the flowing white skirt up over the elegant curve of her ass and slid one hand between warm thighs, fingers searching for the territory obscured between them. _"Oooooooooh,"_ Emma sighed as her middle finger moved slowly through the length of Brown Eyes's damp center.

Killian placed his hands on his knees and grinned, "And we've barely started. You must be a special brand of desperate, yes?"

"Yes," Brown Eyes replied with a shiver as the woman Owner found her entrance and circled it for what felt like forever before pushing inside.

"Damn!" Emma exclaimed, surprised by the Plaything's uncommon tightness. "It feels like she hasn't taken cock for a while, either . . . I mean seriously." She curled her fingers and thrust hard. "Have you ever taken it?!"

"Oh of course she has, Swan." Killian insisted as he rose from his perch before Brown Eyes could respond. He knelt down next to the thing and gently pet her hair. "No woman could do what she did so well on Saturday without quite a bit of experience." He pulled back on her hair and forced her to look at him. "Unless she's too obsessed with sucking and swallowing to ever take it out of her mouth. Is that all you do, Brown Eyes? Hm?"

"No!" Brown Eyes promised as Emma scissored and thrust.

"Doesn't matter either way, we'll have you well broken in by sunset." Killian shrugged casually as he let go of her hair and joined Emma, rigid fingers working alongside hers. "I merely want to know how much training you might require in order to provide us a skilled _fuck."_

"I'm skilled," Brown Eyes warbled as the quartet of fingers did wonderful things inside her. "I promise. But I haven't taken cock for two months. And-" she paused and resisted the urge to writhe her hips for more friction. _Don't move till you're ordered to._ And I use things, things made for exercise, to get tight." It wasn't something Emma had asked her to do, but she loved being a submissive. A perfect Toy. Anytime she took on a New Owner, she did everything possible to provide excellence.

"My god, this is ridiculous!" Killian mused softly as he nudged Emma away and leaned over until his mouth hovered just above Brown Eyes' ear. "Do you miss it?"

"Yessssssss," she hissed as the Owner took his fingers from her pussy and focused instead on her clit.

"Scads of willing men about. You must have had offers." Killian's words said _sympathy,_ but his tone as he worked her clit said _I don't believe you._

Brown Eyes pursed her lips and rallied her voice. "N-n-new Owners are m-MORE important th-than some stupid easy cock. I - ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh - I always work myself into tight shape for New Owners. And for me."

"How's that?" Killian asked.

"So it hurts better," she whimpered.

"That was my criteria when I went gift shopping," Emma said with a low giggle. "It couldn't be just a whips and chains freak, it had to be a really really dedicated Sub. Total pain slut."

"And this one fit the bill?" Killian asked as he ordered himself not to grow beyond half hardness.

"Mm - hm." Emma replied. "She emailed me a vid before I met her in person. Montage. Looked like it spanned a few years. One guy had a _massive_ dick, and she kept begging him to fuck her harder-and this was after a bunch of other stuff. . . " she trailed off for a moment. "I mean if she hasn't had anything in months she must be out of her mind by now."

Killian sat back and considered options.

And considered.

And considered.

And made a decision. "You know," he growled, yanking the Plaything to her knees and grinding himself against her. "My Princess usually has to earn cock, but you? You're far too pathetic, I'd feel guilty." He stood up and pulled Brown Eyes along with him. "Emma you're to stay here."

Emma tried not to let her disappointment show, but Killian saw it anyway.

"Oh, don't pout love, you get to play with her when I'm done."

She smiled up at him. (They hadn't discussed it beforehand, but as their first co-ownership experience played out it felt natural to be more polite with each other than usual.) "Thank you, honey." Her eyes darted to the Toy. "And you say?" She barked.

"Thank you." Brown Eyes barely had time to say the words before Killian steered her over the threshold and slammed the door shut behind them.

Emma sat down on the porch swing. Who knows how long I'll be waiting out here . . . her sulking was tempered by the excitement of wondering what exactly he'd allow her to do as far as delivering punishment. She can take just about anything. Images from the Plaything's 'audition vid' flashed through her mind.

Meanwhile, Killian lead Brown Eyes to the bedroom and ordered her to strip while he sat on the edge of the bed and stared.

"What a sight," He said casually as she stood there, naked and waiting while he again took his time considering options. "The day is young, and I've got two of you to command," he sighed. "I can't spend all my energy appeasing you. Get over here." He indicated the space in front of him.

She obeyed.

"You know, I can actually _smell_ the desperate state of you . . . " he took a long moment to let his eyes wander over her body. "You're going to do all the work, Brown Eyes. I provide the basic necessity, and nothing else. You have until I'm finished to ride at whatever pace you please." He undid his pants and got himself out, stroking from base to tip. "Don't bother me with too much racket, and I'll mark you while I cum. I'm quite certain it won't hurt as much as you'd like, but that's all you get for now." He indicated his lap and placed his hands flat on the mattress. "Go."

She straddled and took him instantly, clutching his shoulders and riding at pace that quickly rose from aggressive to frantic. "Mm! Mm! Mm! Mm!" Endless muffled, high pitched cries, her whole face contorted with the effort of keeping the 'racket' to a minimum.

Killian gripped the bedsheets and hissed. The hug of heated flesh made it difficult to suppress a reaction. _Total apathy,_ he demanded of himself. _Give her nothing!_ She must get off entirely on her own, if at all! "There you go," he whispered as though humoring a needy pet. "Theeeeeerrrrrreeeee you go . . . "

Brown Eyes desperately wanted her Owner's participation. For him grip her body and thrust without mercy. But he'd been very clear about her rights for the moment, so she forced herself not to ask.

"I must admit -" Killian rasped, working to keep his voice light conversational. "I'm enjoying this enough to brand you quite thoroughly."

"Ah!" Brown Eyes cried and sucked in a sharp breath as Killian bit down hard just at the rise of her right breast. Bit and sucked forcefully until her flesh throbbed. Every pleasure center in her brain lit up. She mewled and adjusted hoping to take him deeper, but he came before she could settle the position.

He stood up, sliding her to the floor, and zipped up his pants. "That had better be enough to tide you over," he said. "Your job now is apologizing to my love for making her wait."

"Yes Sir," Brown Eyes nodded, her eyes cast to the floor. "It was enough."

"Good. I'm in no mood to tolerate unsolicited begging. Now crawl to the living room and I'll decide how best to arrange you."

Emma was still on the porch swing when Killian stepped out.

"I have a gift prepared." He said as he held the door for her like a proper gentleman. "Come see."

Emma practically sprinted inside, immediately pleased by what she saw.

Brown Eyes manacled to the wooden frame, her legs splayed wide on a long narrow stool and arms outstretched like wings in mid flight, rising above her head.

"Oooooooooh," she sighed, leaning against Killian as he brought his arms around her waist. "It's perfect." The pair meandered over to stand in front of their trapped creature.

"See how I spoil you?" He murmured in her ear, tracing the outline of her face with soft kisses.

"Yes." The soft, fuzzy moment came to an abrupt halt when a certain detail struck Emma's notice. "What the hell is this?" She growled, harshly grabbing the Plaything's marked breast.

Her restraints rattled as Brown Eyes' whole body responded to the unexpected bolt of pain. _PERFECT! MORE!_ She didn't dare ask aloud.

"She hardly worked for it at all, either." Killian snarled, his gentle embrace turning rough. "It was pure generosity on my part."

"Seriously?" Emma yelled as she grabbed her Toy by the throat. "Do you think being stupid enough to go starving for a few months gives you some right to a _charity fuck?!"_

"No." Brown Eyes whimpered. "I'm so sorry."

Emma turned to face Killian and nuzzled his nose. "What can I do to her?"

Killian grinned. "I wasn't sure I'd like playing with the two of us on equal footing, but so far . . . " he let the statement hang unfinished as he pondered the question. "You may . . . whip her . . . or simply give her a good verbal beat down." _Never underestimate the vicious creativity of language._ Or both, I suppose. Honestly, the pitiful slut really did make a grand show of being so needy. Now that I think of it, I feel rather manipulated."

Emma stepped into what would have been The Plaything's personal space if she had any right to it, and glared. "I don't let anyone get away with using him!"

_OhgodOhgodOhgod!_ Brown Eyes thought with rising anticipation as Emma walked into the room behind her. She heard the storage chest being opened.

Her other Owner crossed his arms and shifted his weight lazily to and fro. "Brace yourself." He warned her. "She excels at this. My back has barely recovered from Saturday's games."

"Uh!" Brown Eyes bit her lip and grunted when the whip struck her waiting skin. "Uh, uh, uuuuuuuhhhhhhh . . . " her pitch oscillated as the barrage went on, some strikes landing softly, others fierce. In contrast to her back, the other Owner's touch trailed delicately over the curves of her body.

"She looks wonderful Swan," Killian praised. "Like she can hardly take another second."

"I can!" Brown Eyes panted. "I can! L - let me, I want to - t - to PAY!" She yelled as another strike landed on her back. "Until I -"

"Until you've actually _earned_ what he gave you!" Emma declared, drawing the whip back.

"Yes!" _Ride it out!_ Brown Eyes ordered herself. As a team the two of them were proving to be the best of everything she loved in a Master. _Ride-OH GOD!_ The intense sting was delicious and searing. _Sub heaven!_

Killian moved in closer and rubbed the Plaything's engorged clit with one hand while the other went on petting and kneading her breasts. "Is my Princess not talented?" He inquired, his gaze wandering to Emma, who remained totally focused on her task.

"Yeah," Brown Eyes panted in reply. "She's - AH! Ah, FUCK! _Amazing!"_

"She's equally talented at taking it." He nipped the Toy's earlobe. "You wouldn't believe the torture she's withstood. Even begged me to deliver."

Yes please! Brown Eyes thought as another strike landed and a new surge of arousal flooded her core.

". . . such strong lady, she is. Mmmmmmmm," he moaned when warm proof of their Plaything's obscene appetite reached his fingers. "That's enough, Swan," he commanded abruptly.

Emma dropped the whip and ran her hands down Brown Eyes's well punished back, panting from the effort of discipline. "Thank you. I feel better."

"Good." Killian purred.

"Should we let her cum now?"

Killian chuckled. "I suppose. Shouldn't take much, she's well on her way." He pressed his thumb against Brown Eyes's clit, stroking fast and hard while two fingers pushed inside. "Do whatever you please so long as it hurts, I think this one may be even more fond of pain than you are, judging by the state of her."

"Really?" Emma snaked an arm around the Plaything to feel for herself. "Wow!"

"My thoughts precisely-here's a question Brown Eyes, should've thought of it earlier-obviously you won't be parading this about town," he worked a third and forth finger inside the Toy with some effort, and thrust upward without restraint, as though trying to lift her. "But is there any part of you we ought to treat with caution?"

"N-no," Brown Eyes answered, still breathless. "I have a lot of dangerous hobbies, I'll blame one of them. I do it all the time."

Emma quickly swung around the wooden frame and yanked Killian's hand away from her. The two were so connected as a team, he knew why without even asking. The look on her face told him everything, so he turned his attention back to the Toy. "Did I ask for details about your life? _No,"_ He answered his own question. "Because they cease to exist the moment you step on this property, I thought that was quite clear!"

"It is," Brown Eyes mewled, wondering what hell they'd make her pay for the transgression. "I'm sorry."

"Pro tip, Toy," Emma wrapped her arms around Killian's neck and nuzzled affectionately. "The man is a stickler for rules."

Killian stepped back and took in the whole picture. Swan neatly dressed and unbound in any way. Plaything naked, manacled to a wood frame, hair disheveled from thrashing. "It's a shame for all three of us," he sighed. "I was going to let her do anything it took to get you off, even let you have a say in the matter. But now . . . "

Emma raised an eyebrow in his general direction. "Are we going to leave her there?"

_Apparently Co-Ownership suspends the 'sub gets only one unsolicited question,' bit, I haven't been keeping track,_ Killian thought. _We'll have to make the exception explicit in the rules._ "No. If she's just dangling there, she's not working. Frankly, she's yet to do any _real_ work at all. I felt sorry for her so I gave her cock without the slightest bit of begging, and you had the good sense to make her pay what was owed. As I should have done in the first place." He sauntered up to Brown Eyes so his face was less than an inch from hers. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes!"

"If not begging, I should have at least made you suck me until nearly the end."

"I know," Brown Eyes nodded, struggling to focus on anything but the wonderful sting in her back. "I've been lazy and selfish."

"A lazy, selfish what?"

The Plaything's voice quivered when she replied. "Whore."

"You're lucky we let you be here at all, you know," said Emma. "I could have picked anyone. Is it time to throw you away and keep shopping?"

"Please don't," Brown Eyes whined, certain they'd make her cum like a maniac if she earned the privilege. "Please keep me! I know I'm trash, but _please!"_

Killian's grinned. "Now there's some proper begging. Fine, we'll let you stay. On to punishment. I forget, Swan, what did I have you wear under that _darling_ outfit?"Um-"

"No, show me."

He went to inspect Brown Eyes' back while Emma unbuttoned her shirt. What he saw made his spine tingle. Line after line of angry red. "Very well done."

Emma beamed, shedding her shirt to reveal the sheer black lace camisole beneath. No bra.

"Isn't she perfect?" Killian whispered in their Toy's ear, careful not touch her back in any way that might inflame the pain she clearly wanted.

"Yes. Perfect."

He left Brown Eyes in favor of helping Emma out of the skirt. Her panties, of course, matched the camisole.

Brown Eyes squirmed and resisted the intense urge to flat out tug against her manacles while pair kissed and groped, completely ignoring her. They even undressed more. His shirt, her panties, his belt. She could see he was fully hard. _Are they just going to have regular sex while I watch?_ She wondered. _No, no he said he didn't want me dangling here doing nothing. They've got to put me to work soon!_

"Mmmmmmmmm," Emma moaned into Killian's mouth as he kissed aggressively, teasing her nipples through the flimsy lace top.

He broke away suddenly. "Go sit down." He pointed at the T chair against the wall. "Keep quiet and wait, I need to explain a few things to the Toy before we continue."

Emma nodded and did as she was told.

Brown Eyes' throat ran dry.

"Listen carefully, you _pathetic_ creature!" Killian growled and gripped Brown Eyes' face in a claw - like fashion. "If you wish to remain our Plaything you must earn what you're given, and you must remember the rules. At. All. Times. And you've done a piss poor job of both!"

"I know," Brown Eyes whispered. "I promise I'll do better."

Killian's took a deep, contemplative breath. "The cock was a service. The whip was payment. This next bit is punishment, do you understand?"

"Mmhm," Brown Eyes whined, full of equal parts anticipation and dread.

Emma shivered, wet and eager to hear what order her Pirate was about to issue.

Killian withdrew a key from his pocket. "Most ladies don't have such dirt low standards as to settle for anything hard inside them. They need proper attention first." He released the Plaything and guided her over to where Emma sat, legs splayed in the T Chair. "And that is what you will give my Princess. Proper attention."

Brown Eyes looked at her Owner. The woman was wide eyed and flushed, clearly impatient.

Killian continued. "Your job is to make her cum for as long as she likes. Neither of us will hurt you at all unless you succeed."

"As long as she likes," Brown Eyes repeated, her pulse racing.

"I'm worried you might get lazy again, so keep this in mind," he sneered, "I do plan to let you have a _real_ fuck at some point, and how hard I fuck you depends entirely on how well you please the Lady." He shoved her to the floor between Emma's legs. "I know it runs against your natural instincts, but feel free to get rough down there if it'll help the cause." He gently tucked Emma's hair behind her ears, cuffed the Plaything's wrists to the back legs of the chair, and stood up. "She's all yours, love. Happy Anniversary."

Emma basked in his warm gaze for a moment before and turning her attention to the Toy. "Do this right, and I promise you'll like the reward. He'll _destroy_ you."

"I'll do it right," Brown Eyes promise as she nestled in and drew her tongue slowly up the length of her Owner's lust-slick sex. "I'm a good pussy slave."

"AH!" Emma cried out, thigh muscles responding erratically as the Toy went on lapping and lapping in various directions, frequently employing the small steel bead in her tongue on the most sensitive places.

"Great pussy slave . . . " _(nuzzle, lick, swirl)_ ". . . "Once made a woman . . . cum over and over for thirty minutes." _(flick, flick, press)_ "Mmmmmmmmmmm."

The deep rumble of her Toy's moaning sent searing pleasure through Emma's entire body like torch fire. She tilted her head back, pleased to see Killian was stroking himself. "Th-thank. You. Hon-honey. Shhhhhhh, shhhhheeeee's-AH! _Fuck! Oh, GOD!_

_Keep narrating!_ Brown Eyes ordered herself as the Owner's responses got more and more intense. The trick was to paint a clear erotic picture without neglecting her pussy. "Her husband planned" _(lick all over)_ "to watch and" _(stroke clit fast, hard pressure)_ "and fuck me after" _(ease off, barley there)_ "but he gave up." _(Tongue in deep, find a good spot and go like crazy, out to clit, back in, out to clit, back in. Again, again, again)_ She stayed on task while Emma bucked into her mouth, whining and shrieking her gratitude to Killian.

_Orgasm one out of the way,_ Brown Eyes thought, glad to be one step closer to a reward. _Keep going._

"He gave up." _(lap, lap)_ "His wife was so fucking loud," _(clit, lap, slooooow massage)_ I didn't even hear him get behind me." _(clit, tongue and teeth, light grazing)_ "Until BAM!" She clamped her teeth down on the fleshiest portion of Emma's inner right thigh. "He pulled me away," she murmured after Emma's cries quieted to a whimper, "and started fucking me like crazy." Brown Eyes sucked several dark blue/black marks into her Owner's thighs, stopping frequently to lavish her clit with attention.

"Oh! Killian, God, AH! She must be fucking _DESPERATE_ for pain!" Emma's whole body lurched and shuddered in her obscene throne, every muscle going wild. "Oooooooooooh, you should . . ." the rest of her thoughts were incinerated by the heat of orgasm.

Killian keat stroking himself at a moderate pace despite the temptation to do otherwise. Watching Emma cum while their Toy licked her was incredible, but he refused to let the subservient thing have cock until his woman was completely spent. _You bragged you could do it, now let's see it,_ he thought just as Brown Eyes dove in once more and made a meal of her Owner's ongoing orgasm, moaning and rocking her own hips in time to the rhythm of Emma's release.

"Mm!" The sound of Emma's pitchy cries filled the room. "Mm! Mm! Mm! Mm! Mm! Mm! Mm!"

Killian did all he could to ignore the ache of his rigid shaft while Emma's body went from thrashing to settled several times over. "Has she earned it?" He rasped finally, stepping close to run his fingers through her sweat matted hair. _Please say yes._ All he could think about was burying himself in their Plaything's ridiculous tightness while she watched.

_"Aaaaaaaaaahhhh,"_ Emma replied with a deep, tired sigh as Brown Eyes slowed the stroke of her tongue. "She's . . . she needs . . . _yes."_

Killian nodded and yanked the Toy up by the hips, forcing her into a sharp V position, arms pulled taught against the chair's restraints. "I presume you expect cock now, yes?"

"No," Brown Eyes replied, panting heavily. "I _want it._ But expecting . . . " she paused to catch her breath, "would be arrogant of me." Her pulse raced as she felt the tip of his hardness ghosting at her entrance, teasing. _Fuck me!_ "Use me however you want, Sir."

"Do it." Emma insisted as she grabbed the Plaything's hair and pulled to the side. "I wanna see her get off on being used like a cum rag. And this." She slapped the Plaything's back without warning. "She was a great pussy slave." Another slap.

Brown Eyes wailed, and a violent jolt ran through her body as she took every inch of her Owner's substantial authority in the space of a second. "Thank you, Sir," she rasped, bracing herself for further use. She went on wailing and moaning heavily as he fucked her - this time the way she preferred. Trapped, taken, ruined. _They're perfect!_ She thought as the woman continued to knead and claw her abused back.

"Uh!" Killian groaned as he thrust deep, relishing the uncommon resistance of her snug sex. "Uh! Uh! Uh! _Swan!_ She's! So! So - ah!" Her lively muscles tensed around his shaft, rippling with dark, twisted pleasure. He gave up on talk and focused solely on demolishing his Plaything's months of effort and self denial.

"Happy now?" Emma hissed between the captive's strangled cries. "Did you miss taking _mean_ cock?"

"Uh-huh!" Brown Eyes panted as Killian moved strategically to stretch her open even wider. "Missed! So! Much!"

"Do it," Emma keened as she stroked herself. "She's yours, break her!"

Killian obliged, fucking their captive with total lack of restraint. His eyes, however, stayed riveted to Emma as she slapped and clawed the Toy's body and rode her other hand to climax number . . . ? _I do envy women the multiple orgasm._

"Brilliant!" Killian cried out as the tide of his own final release rushed down his spine and up his legs, crashing together in the middle. "Bloody _stunning!_ OH!"

"Hear that?" Emma practically sang with joy. "Good job."

When the Owner was done with her, Brown Eyes crumpled to the floor, aching and delirious, thrilled to have done so well.

"That was wonderful, Swan." Killian said breathlessly. "You must have searched high and low for such a dedicated slave." He nudged the moaning pile of sex between them with his foot. "Mostly low, I imagine. How did you obtain her for us anyway?" He helped Emma stand up and sidestep their Plaything. "I'm sure we weren't her only option."

"You and I are a great team, Killian." Emma said as she looped her arms around his waist. "When we agreed to meet in person I showed her ten minutes of our best work together on my phone." She shrugged. "I promised her if you and I took her together she'd, well . . . "

The pair turned their gaze to Brown Eyes, still cuffed to the chair and patiently waiting for another order.

"She'd get what these creatures love." Killian's voice oozed with certainty. "Do I have that right?" He asked the Toy. "No rights, no respect, no purpose but pleasing a Master?"

"Uh - huh." Brown Eyes replied softly. "I could tell . . . you'd make me _work_ . . . both of you."

"Mmmm, speaking of work, when is it my turn?" Emma asked, swaying in Killian's arms.

Killian chuckled. "You mean when shall I make you crawl and beg? - Oh by the way, Brown Eyes, you're unnecessary right now, and I'm sure you know how to work the safety release on those cuffs. Go take a ten minute shower, then turn off the water and remain there until we fetch you."

The couple stood in silence until Brown Eyes left the room

"I'm too spent right now to even think about your turn," Killian sighed as he zipped up. "If waiting bothers you-"

"I'm fine with waiting!" Emma insisted, though she knew her voice muse have betrayed a hint of frustration. The look on Killian's face as he strolled to the couch was a grand trifecta of amusement, arrogance, and empathy.

"It must be one hell of a conflict," he mused in a lighthearted tone. "Which urge is stronger? To be challenging and inventive, as I know you are?"

Emma swelled with pride.

"Or to be an utter, shameless, relentless cock slut, which I _also_ know you to be. In which case introducing the Plaything was probably a terrible idea on your part."

_He's too worn out for physical play,_ Emma thought. _So it's this now. He's got such great instincts!_ "Did you enjoy playing with Brown Eyes?" She asked.

"Immensely." Killian replied and motioned for Emma to join him on the couch.

"Then she was a great idea even if I have to wait for hours."

"Is that so?" Killian looked unconvinced.

Emma shrugged. "I should learn to be more patient anyhow. I'll wait until tomorrow if you need that much rest."

"I don't need _that much_ rest!" He insisted. "And I could never be so cruel - to either of us." He paused and looked around the room, wracking his brain for something to keep the game going. He spotted the heap of Emma's discarded clothes and went with it. " Go put on something . . . _inspiring."_

Emma nodded obediently. "Should I come back, or stay in the room?"

"Come back, of course." Killian replied as he stretched out on the couch, cross legged and hands behind his head.

Emma wasn't gone long. When she returned, she was clad all in white. A knee length silk robe loosely tied, panties, thigh high lace stockings, and no bra. White leather collar around her neck. The only thing not white was the cell phone clutched between her teeth. Killian drew a deep, satisfied breath as he took in the sight. "You look marvelous, Swan. Bring me the phone, I'll choose what you get to watch." As Emma placed the phone in his hand, he had an epiphany. He wasn't sure what sparked it. Maybe the warm, trusting look in her eyes, or the all white attire, or maybe something more complex, but out of nowhere he was fully certain of one thing. One unbreakable fact.

_The next time we visit this cabin will be on our Honeymoon._


	10. Til Death Do Us Play

She and Killian laughed about it for days after it happened. He had the ring hidden away in a box in the back of the hall closet behind an absurd amount of clutter. He planned to propose the following week on his boat at sunset over glasses champaign. He chose the night specifically because the night sky was supposed to be clear, full of stars. A perfect romantic scene all to themselves. But the weekend before his designated evening, Emma surprised him with reservations at his favorite seafood restaurant, and proposed midway through appetizers. Presented a ring, took a knee, the whole bit. Of course she took offense when he burst out laughing, but he explained as fast as humanly possible, and dug her ring out of the closet first thing when they got home. They'd both chosen a carbonized tungsten band with a simple diamond gem-well, his was a row of three small gems embedded in the metal, but still. By the look of it, you'd think they went ring shopping together.

Immediately she and Killian were both swept up in the giddy whirlwind of new engagement, and preliminary wedding plans. At least, they were until Emma's Mom Instincts kicked in. She realized that between so much couple time with her fiancé, and actual wedding related stuff, she'd have less one-on-one time available for Henry. Emma was a realist. Swearing up and down that they'd hang out exactly as much as before no matter what would only lead to disappointment. So she talked it over with Killian and they both agreed. She and Henry would take a week long camping trip, just the two of them, to make up for the coming interference of life.

"It'll be right back to normal after the honeymoon, kid." (That much she could promise with confidence.)

It was a great week. They caught fish together, hiked, took a ton of pictures. Henry even plucked on a guitar at the invitation of a nearby camper. A girl around his age. _We'll have to take a few more of these trips after the wedding,,_ she thought half-mournfully. _I'll lose him to girls and dating soon._

Emma loved her kid like crazy, but by the time they got back from their mother/son bonding trip, she was ready for some Adult Time. Very serious Adult Time.

She and Killian stood on the porch together and waved as Regina drove off with Henry.

"Mmmmm," Killian mused, wrapping his arms around her waist. "What to do now?"

_The look._

"Really?" Killian at first assumed she was kidding. "You've been away for a week, and we're newly engaged! Wouldn't you rather something a bit more traditional? Romantic?"

Emma shook her head.

"How about a nice picnic down at the beach, the sunset should be beautiful tonight."

She shook her head more aggressively, hungry obedience taking over every detail of her posture.

Killian could already feel himself Sliding into the familiar character of Master. Owner. Hook. "Skipping romance all together? Why, Swan? Am I so incompetent in that area, you'd rather I stick to my strengths?"

"No!" She insisted.

"You proposed to me first, remember? But perhaps you only want to marry me in order guarantee there's always a man around to satisfy your unspeakable deviancy!"

"No! I love you, I promise!"

He shook his head. "Now I wonder if on my own merits you'd have cut me loose long ago."

"Nonono!" The thrill of anticipation rampaged through Emma's body like wildfire. "No, I love you so much!"

Hook grabbed h arms and drove her against the wall. "Then why? Why on your first evening home, would you prefer a brutal fucking Pirate to a sweet, doting fiancé? It's not normal, even for the likes of you!

Emma swelled with affection, and did her best not to smile as she replied. "Because telling you I wanted this was the hardest thing I've ever done, and you didn't run away." She shrugged. "Even if we never played, or only played a little . . . "

"What?" Hook barked. "I can't read your mind, Swan."

"When you didn't freak out or make me feel like shit? It was the moment I completely, totally trusted us to last." A small hint of the smile she meant to suppress snuck its way onto her face. "I didn't even need you to play with me, honestly. Just the fact that you knew me a hundred percent, fantasies and all, would've been enough."

"Your point?"

"I know you only did it at first to make me happy . . ." she paused agin. "And it couldn't have been easy, but that you even tried . . . learned how to play . . . no sane man would volunteer to destroy a desperate cock slut on a regular basis if he didn't love her. No way in hell."

Hook broke into a wicked grin. "A beautiful sentiment, dearest." He gripped her harder and pressed close. "But looking back on it now, perhaps enslaving myself to your darkest appetites was a mistake. Yes," he nodded with a deep sigh. "In love and shortsighted, that's what I was. I'd already leapt through portals for your sake, scoured strange cities, given up my home-how difficult could granting a more or less simple fantasy possibly be?" His grin transformed to menacing sneer. "And here we are a few years on. You more or less an addict, and me stuck as your dealer."

"I'm sorry," Emma breathed. _I love you so much!_

"Pushed to the limits of my imagination."

"Thank you."

"Not to mention the actual physical work. Dear God, Swan, I had no idea what catering to this urge would demand of me!"

"I'm sorry-thank you-I'msosorry!" Her words came out in a breathy, excited rush.

Her Owner released her from his grip and took a step back. "I assumed all you meant by 'submission' was a few minutes of the crop, a bit of handcuffs and blindfolds, and maybe some mild name calling." He took another large step back and folded his arms. "But no. Turns out it takes hours upon hours to break my depraved Princess down to the wrecked mess she loves to become."

"I know," Emma whined, eager to feel the sting of whatever Hook might be planning.

"But I love her so much. My Princess. And I choose to give in every time she asks. I surrender."

"Thank you."

"Mold myself into the Master she dreams of."

"Thank you!"

"I've become quite the horrible creature for your sake, you know."

"I know, I know,"

"I've given you the crop," he stepped closer. "The whip." Closer. "The leash, binding, gags, orders, monumental degradation! Hell, when you get right down to it, _fucking you_ is the least of my efforts."

"Thankyousomuch, oh God, thank you!" This was a an exhilarating new method of build up. Hook usually leveled some sort of challenge or task right away. _How long will this go on?_ She wondered, damp with curiosity.

"And still!" Again Hook loomed inches from her face, though no part of his body touched hers. "Still you beg for worse! Slut, whore, slave, so many humiliating titles! Dozens more! Do you recall a few?"

Emma spoke up immediately. "Cum slut, easy pussy, worthless fuck, ruined toy, cheap ride, greedy whore-"

"I said a few!" He yelled, pinning her to the wall. "But since we're on the subject, do you truly remember the entire catalog?"

"Of course!" Emma insisted. "I love all of them. The names and how you describe me when I'm your toy. They're always perfect, too."

"Now that has got to be a lie!" Hook scoffed. "We've been at this for how many years now?"

"Maybe not every description," she corrected herself, wondering if the error would merit punishment. "But at least dozens."

"Alright then," He hurled her away from the wall toward the main room, fully entrenched in his role. Brutal. Fucking. Pirate. "Down on all fours, NOW!"

Emma complied.

"You're to crawl to our toybox, and you will recite a title or description with every step. If you repeat yourself, or pause to think longer than five seconds, I shall make you watch while I get myself off, then I'll be gentle as a kitten with you for at least an hour. Longer if you dare complain. Begin."

"May I ask one question?"

"Fine," Hook grumbled. "As long as it's not stupid."

"Does 'no repeats' apply to the ones I just listed?"

"Of course it applies to those as well! Now crawl before I get bored!"

Emma moved forward one step. "Mindless toy." Another step. "Selfish slut." Step. "Wet filth." Step. "Fallen trash." Step. "Indecent whore." Step. "Greedy pussy."

"Wonderful," Hook whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

_Yes!_ The small victory bolstered her confidence. "Obedient toy." Step. "You wagered I could swallow cum all day." Step. "And beg for more." She paused for a beat, wondering if that counted as two separate thoughts, or their connection would count as a repetition. Hook said nothing of it, so she charged forward. "Bruised fuck-puppet." Step. "Pathetic abomination." Step.

_Amazing!_ Thought Hook as he walked alongside her, prepared to deliver immediate punishment should she falter. _She really does file them away somewhere in that incredible mind!_

"Wet pain junkie." Step. "Deviant slave." Step. "That you . . ." her memory glitched for a half second, but she refused to let instinctive panic win. _I win!_ Her whole being declared with thundering obstinance. _I always win, it's what I do!_ "You were sure I'd trade all my dignity for cock!" She cried out. Step. _Winner!_

On and on it went until they reached the toybox. Her Owner was genuinely stunned. Both by her memory and his own creativity. So many varied titles and descriptors he'd assigned her in just a few years.

"Well done," he crouched down and stroked her hair. "My brilliant creature."

She leaned into his touch, certain the gentleness was meant to contrast whatever might happen next.

"Chore though you are, I do adore you." He stood up abruptly and pulled her to her knees. "But I've had quite enough of your voice for now." He opened the toybox and clothes box. "Topless, black lace panties, studded leather collar, blindfold, black stilettos. Put them on the moment I'm out of the room, and when I return I expect to see you kneeling in the doorway faced toward me with one of our toys in front of you. You're to root through the toybox to select one blindfolded, obviously."

"Yes, Sir." She closed her eyes and listened as he walked away.

"Oh and you have forty five seconds. Best to hurry."

Rooting through the toybox proved the biggest challenge. She'd walked and/or crawled all over the room blindfolded enough times to navigate from the closet to doorway with ease. But when it came to toys, they'd accumulated so many options. Some meant to hurt, some meant to tease, some meant to be inserted.

_What do I want?_ She wondered, fumbling through the tangle. Apparently after the last time they played they tossed a few leashes back in the box without neatly winding them. _Tick tock, Emma!_ She heard Hook's ambling footsteps drawing closer, and knew her time was almost out. In a split second decision she yanked on a leash, flinging out several toys, and grabbed one at random. Hook was mere steps away by the time she dropped to her knees in the designated spot.

"2.8 seconds to spare," he purred. "And I see we've selected the paddle."

_That's what it was._ Emma had paid no attention whatsoever to the item she grabbed. Getting to the assigned position in the time allotted was far too important. Besides, she trusted her Owner to make good use of whatever she selected.

"Hmmmmmm . . . "

She felt him move close.

"Though you did make quite a mess. Toys scattered about. Anyhow," his voice took on a businesslike, managerial tone. "Whenever I decide to hurt you, we'll begin with the paddle. But for now . . . "

Pure, slow lust snaked and curled down Emma's spine as she listened to Hook unzip his pants.

"As you just proved, I've named and described you in a great number of very creative ways." He paused to make sure she woutle hear the soft sound of him stoking himself. "I'm not sure you've adequately returned the favor."

Emma mewled, resisting the temptation to open her mouth and basically announce a readiness for cock. Instead she dedicated herself to total stillness and listening.

"Sir," Hook mused. "Master, brutal Pirate, they're all nice enough titles, but I think . . . "

The tip of his cock swept over her lips, leaving behind small traces of pre-cum.

"I think you can do better. So here's what's going to happen. If I'm in your mouth, you suck. If I'm not, you tell me all I am to you. And work your imagination as I have a mine, understand? Work, you pitiful . . ." he slid the head of his length just beyond her lips, "whining . . ." a bit deeper. "Wet. _Hole."_ He thrust to the back of her throat and withdrew, leaving her to her own methods.

Emma took the cue and held his legs to steady herself as she ran her tongue around him several times before sealing her mouth around his hard flesh.

"Mmmmmmm," Hook moane again and again. "Lovely."

He pulled away without warning, and Emma found herself free to speak.

Shit! She scrambled to think of something, kicking herself that she'd failed to do so while sucking. "Uh, um-"

"What the hell am I to you, Emma?!" Hook shouted.

_Real name, NO!_ Again she teetered close to panic. _Come up with something NOW, or you'll end up with painless, lights out, missionary sex!_ He hadn't told her as much, but the hypothetical was more than likely, considering his usual tactics. "Better than any Master I ever dreamt up! My stupid fantasies were pathetic compared to you, y-"

Again he thrust into her mouth without warning. This time for less than a minute. She picked up where she left off the moment he pulled out.

"Your crop and your whip and your cock own me! You ruin me, wreck me, you're everything my whore pussy wants! Fucking ruthless-Mmph." _Suck. Take it deep._ She emitted a quaking whine every time he struck the back of her throat, and adjusted so he could slide a little bit further. It went on until her jaw ached, but still she spoke without pause every time he withdrew. "Strict Pirate! Brutal Master! Every time we play you break me so good I know I chose the ri-"

"Fast!" Hook growled as he guided her right hand around his base, and pushed her mouth back onto his weeping cock. "And be ready to swallow." He hissed and moaned as orgasm approached, hurried by the work of an expert. My expert. He stepped away and zipped up the moment it was over, never taking his eyes off the spectacle kneeling at his feet.

There she knelt, flush-faced and panting, beaming with pride.

"How do you feel after sucking me off?" Hook asked.

"Purposeful." Emma replied, quiet and humble. "Talented-"

"Oh, you are that, indeed. Continue, and do speak up."

"Glad you like to use me," she said, raising her voice as ordered. "Grateful to be your cum slut. So ready to take more-to earn it," she quickly corrected. "After I swallow all I want is to suffer whatever it takes to win more cock."

"Then how lucky you selected the paddle." Hook smiled. "If memory serves it hurts like hell. Edge of the bed, all fours."

His pet obeyed, and he ambled along behind her in no great hurry. "You know," he mused mostly to himself, twirling the paddle in his hand. "I'm so used to regarding this thing as an instrument of payment or discipline, I can't even look another cheeseboard without feeling dirty. Ready, love?"

"Always."

"Right then. Let's see where we're at." Hook tucked the paddle into his belt and pulled the toy's panties to midway down her thighs, then slid a hand between her legs. "Uh-huh," he whispered as his fingers easily entered and massaged deep into her slick center. "Quite ready for one hell of a fuck, I'd say." He splayed out his fingers and thrust back and forth as he spoke, adding digits when the path became too easy. "But it'll be a while before I'm ready to service my poor starving slave again. She'll just have to settle for this."

"Mmmmmm," Emma whimpered, ecstatic as a fifth and final finger pushed inside. She tensed and shivered around the immense pressure of her Owner's fist as it filled her, stretching every muscle taught.

"I'll fist you for a bit," he informed her, "paddle you sore, and then I am taking a damn break."

"Yes!" Emma cried out, rocking her hips in time to the pace of his thrust. "May I touch myself, Sir?" _Please say yes!_

"If you must."

"Thank you!" Emma rasped, rubbing her clit as the thud of her heartbeat rose quickly from fast to frantic.

A few minutes later Hook felt the toy's flesh begin to ripple and surge against his hand, clamoring for more friction. _There we are,_ he thought when absolute release finally broke free and flooded her core. The heat of wet sex coursed around his hand as she bucked and rocked against him, yelling out obscene compliments every second. He stilled and let her ride through the height of it, occasionally pressing or curling his fingers when he sensed it would be helpful. "Thank god that's over!" Hook declared when it ended. He fell to the mattress by her side and rolled onto his back. "My arm was getting tired-oh no, no!" He insisted when she stopped touching herself. "By all means continue. Enjoy a few aftershocks. It will be a moment before I've the energy to bruise your ass properly, so you may as well stay occupied. Speaking of which, clean this up."

Though blindfolded, she knew his hand was somewhere near her face. The pungent scent of orgasm hovered nearby.

"My obedient slut," Hook whispered with genuine affection when Emma found the object of her task and set about lapping ano sucking, adjusting to whichever way he moved his hand. "Prized and precious, always." His other hand swept gently through her hair. "I am in so many ways a changed man because of you, Swan. So many, _many_ ways."

The overtly sentimental declarations had no place in their usual gameplay, and under normal circumstances such contradictory tenderness might annoy her, but this was not their usual game. It was their first game as an engaged couple. Given the circumstances, the sudden change of tone felt natural. Anyhow, she trusted him not to let it go on too long and break the scene.

Once his fuck-slicked hand was clean he delicately traced the contours of her face and blindfold.

"To think I might never have known the full extent of your talent . . ." he sighed. "This depthless lust for humiliation and force."

"Mmmmmmmmm," Emma sighed in reply as a warm, smaller, semi-orgasm radiated through her body. "Yes."

"Even when I'm not fucking you, you're a monumental chore to please-and if I gave you cock right now you'd barely feel a thing. Nor would I." Hook's touch on her face slowly morphed into a stern grip as he spoke. "Fisted so wide and soaking wet as you are? It would be like sinking my dick into an ocean. Completely pointless."

Emma tried not let her imagination jump ahead and start fantasizing about the paddle, but it was difficult. She really wanted to hurt. _ADULT! TIME! PLEASE!_

"I suppose it's a good thing I'm still too weary to get hard." Hook went on. "It would be incredibly annoying to stand in need of tight pussy and have nothing but a ruined _disgrace_ at my disposal."

"I'll be almost back to normal in a few hours," the toy said breathlessly. "Three or four. Especially if I use those things Brown Eyes sent us, she swears by them."

"I forgot about those," Hook chuckled. "I don't often provide you this particular service, so we seldom have need of them. Though I am glad to have them around on the odd occasion I give in." He reached beneath her body and pinched a nipple hard enough to make her cry out. "Thinking of it now," he sighed almost absentmindedly as he continued to pinch, twist, and knead her breasts with ceaseless aggression, "given the sheer girth you so clearly love to take, it's a wonder any average man's cock has ever been enough to satisfy you. I've never considered myself lacking in that particular department, but you? You're _ridiculous!"_ He released her breast, reared up, and bit her shoulder so hard, he half expected to hear the Safeword.

"AH!" Emma screamed in both shock and delight as Hook went on biting and sucking, ruthlessly branding his property. "Ah! Ah! Ah! _AH!"_

The jerk and writhe of her body, as well as the pitch of her screaming all said 'no, stop, please, please stop!' But the lack of 'Lemon,' (or any physical resistance whatsoever) said 'keep going, I can take it.' He'd developed a keen eye and ear for spotting it when she was truly close to the brink, and always eased off accordingly to assure the game didn't stop cold. Eventually he decided the one side was marked well enough, and threw her onto her back far enough up the mattress so he had room to kneel between her legs. "Now for the front of you. Feel free to touch or clutch at me while I work."

Emma drew in one sharp gasp after another as Hook attacked her thighs, starting with the fleshy inside parts. "Fuck!" She yelled, arching her back and raking her hands through his hair. "Fuck me!"

"Not yet," Hook shook his head. "Though I believe I'm done mangling this beautiful flesh of yours. I know I've said it a hundred times by now, but you are exhausting." He pushed himself off the bed and slid to the floor. "I despise half measures, and that's all I could manage in this condition. The paddle will have to wait."

Emma completely failed to contain a sound of deep frustration. After getting through the last few minutes, she was riding an intense high. It was her sweet spot, and she wanted to stay there a while before coming down.

"Shut. Up." Her Master ordered quietly as he pulled himself to his feet, glaring down with menace even though Emma was blindfold and couldn't it. _Mustn't break the character in any way,_ Hook cautioned himself. _Could affect the performance._ Do honestly think I'd cheat you out of all I promised?"

"No," the toy whispered.

"Then you understand the pain it would cause me to ever disappoint you?"

"Yes, I understand."

Hook tucked the paddle into his belt. "Then keep all that selfish lust _silent_ while you wait, and do as you're told in the meantime." The words were spoken low, but his tone dripped with aggressive power.

"Yes, Sir."

"Brilliant!" He chirped as though they'd just finished a pleasant chat. "Now back to the edge here, on all fours, as you were before."

She moved carefully back into position, determined not to fall off the bed.

Hook swept her hair to one side and rumbled in her ear. "I promise, with all my heart. You shall hurt when I am able to deliver as you deserve."

Emma bit her lip, wanting to beg to the point of tears, but certain that to do so would cost a terrible price. _Don't do it, you idiot! He'll make us go somewhere with candlelight and white tablecloths!_ She could almost hear the soft violin music. Instead, earphones carrying the loud blare of The Rolling Stones suddenly covered her ears. _Huh . . ._

Hook meandered around the room, admiring his work from every angle. "Can you hear me, Emma Swan?" He asked at a slightly-louder-than-conversational volume. No response. "Good." He walked out of the room without a backward glance.

Twenty minutes. That was the minimum time limit he'd set himself. Normally the wait would be difficult, an outright struggle to suppress his own desire to play. But this time he actually needed the intermission. Throat fucking, fisting, defiling a great percentage of her body. _You've done quite a bit in a short amount of time._ He knew exactly how things would go upon immediate return to the game. The paddle. Obviously. _But once that's over, then what? Something new?_ He wracked his brain and got nothing. Owning her the moment she returned home from an entire week away was literally the last thing he'd expected. Short of dashing out right away to get her teeth cleaned, he could think of nothing less likely.

In short, while her requests for use often came at surprising or even bizarre times, this was a whole new level. And he felt a whole new level of unprepared. Improvising under such pressure proved a daunting challenge. He sat down on the couch, tapped his heels, and drummed his fingers on both knees. A vast pool of ideas swirled in his mind, most disappearing into the funnel of discarded options. _What could possibly be new for us?_ Basically everything that fell under the heading of 'we haven't tried it' was either something they couldn't do without traveling far, far away from Storybrook, or something neither of them cared to try, like electric stimulation. _How anyone could find even mild electrocution erotic-would you FOCUS, you nitwit?! Ten minutes down and you're still drawing a blank!_ By time the last few minutes ticked down, he had a scenario roughly outlined. Some things they had done before, but combined in a new arrangement. _I've got time to edit if needed._

Blindfolded toy gave no indication she knew he was there when he strode back into the room. "Emma Swan, can hear me?" He asked at the same volume as before. _No reaction. Perfect. Quick now._ He meant to land the first strike before she could register his presence in any way. Even the slightest hint of body heat would be too much, so kept far to the side of her, approaching quickly with arm drawn back, ready to deliver.

"Nnngh!" She gripped the blankets and lurched violently forward, head falling to the mattress.

Hook swung twice more before removing her earphones and tossing them and the iPhone aside. "It's nice to see you, too," he purred, swinging again. And again.

His Princess cried out some form of objection to every other blow, but just as before uttered nothing even close to lemon. Anytime he chose to be especially unrestrained, he always listened extra carefully for so much as an "L" sound, in case she was too pained for the whole word. _Master? Yes. Abuser? No. Never beyond her liking._ He'd sooner walk a plank with bricks tied to his feet than truly harm his Swan. The submissive in actual control while controller submits. Reality and appearance arranged as exact opposites.

"Do you have any _IDEA-"_ he struck. "How _HARD-"_ strike. "I worked to become _THIS_ for _YOU?"_ Strike and strike. "The first time I could hardly _BEAR . . ._ to watch you _SUFFER!"_ Strike, strike, strike. "My soul's instinct is to _PROTECT YOU!"_ His voice took on a dangerous growl. "From such _HARM!"_

"Th, thank . . . thank you." Emma whispered, barely able to speak.

"Bloody right!" He moved to the other side of her body and continued. "A hundred _TIMES-"_ a series of wicked blows, then he paused and waited for the Safeword. No word. Strike. "A hundred times I tried to _STOP!"_ Strike. "Be done with this _SICKNESS!"_ He set down the paddle and leaned over her body, hand fisted in her hair. "Can you guess why I didn't?"

Emma nodded.

"Do speak up, pet."

"For me," she answered, her voice shaky. "You learned to do all this for me."

"Precisely." He stood up again and swung the paddle, this time aiming for her thighs. "The thought of denying you _ANYTHING,"_ strike, "anything at _ALL,"_ strikestrikestrike, without pause. "Was even worse than twisting myself into this _HIDEOUS,"_ strike. _"ABHORRENT,"_ strike, strike. _"MONSTER!"_ He stopped to catch is breath. "And now I'm as utterly damned as you are. I'm thrilled when you ask to play-" an almost gentle strike. "And I love being dragged around on a leash those rare occasions I submit to _YOU!"_ Back to unrestrained force. "The old me would have _NEVER,"_ strike, _"ALLOWED,"_ strike. "Such insulting _HUMILIATION!"_ He bellowed, swinging and swinging until her entire backside and thighs were beet red and showing signs of bruising in some spots. I am a wretched weakling compared to this woman! Hook was absolutely convinced, and had been for a long time, that if her fortitude were translated to physical height, she'd tower over giants by an embarrassing margin.

Deep down he suspected she also knew he'd not hold up so well as her when it came to pain. When their roles were switched, yes pain was involved, but she tended to place heavier emphasis on tests of endurance, degradation, and rage. He didn't mind being the weaker partner in that one respect. In fact, as he gazed at his treasure, hair thrashed, back sheeted with sweat, and chest heaving in the wake of her latest challenge, he could only feel proud of her. It was her strength that first attracted him, and her strength that would hold him close forever. Happily. _Careful, mate. Remember the game._ Stand up." He snapped. "And be quick about it." He took her by the arm and guided her directly in front of the mirror.

Given her experience with blindfolded navigation around the room, Emma knew exactly where she stood. _God, what must I look like by now?_ Every inch of her body throbbed, hot and stinging.

Rather than remove the blindfold, Hook selected a series of items from their clothes box, and helped Emma dress without a word. A leather collar and leash, tight leather corset, panties (lace), garter belt and stockings, and stiletto heels.

"Fiiiiiiiinal touch," Hook muttered as he brought the toy's arms behind her back and taped her wrists together. "Now have a look." He removed her blindfold. "Feel free to turn around, I want you to see the whole picture."

All white. Emma noticed, and the panties were flimsy enough to clearly show her red and purple flesh beneath, the screaming evidence of resolute obedience.

Hook took ahold of her leash and wrapped it around his hand until there was only enough give for him to stand flush against her body. He positioned himself behind and wrapped an arm around her waist. They both admired her reflection in silence.

"Mmmmmm," Hook placed a line of delicate kisses from the crook of her neck down the slope of her shoulder. "You know how in this land it's customary for little miniature figurines of the bride and groom to be placed atop a wedding cake?"

"Yes."

"This is what yours should look like. It won't, of course, but it should. Don't you agree?" He gave the leash a harsh tug and tightened his grip around her waist.

"Yes," she whispered. "I do, yes."

"'I do,'" Hook chuckled. "Aren't we the clever one. And why should our little wedding statues look this way? What do we look like?" He pointed to the mirror and gave her leash another hard tug.

"It looks like you own me," Emma replied with a warm smile, eyes wandering over all the darkening marks on her breasts and thighs. "Like I'm your personal whore and I'd do anything to stay that way."

"Indeed." Hook nodded. "Of course if we were completely authentic about it, we'd also have to write something degrading on the front of her bodice in tiny letters. 'Wedded slut' or the like."

Emma whined as his hand slid beneath her panties.

"Have you any suggestions, my dearest creature?"

"Married cock toy." Somehow, she didn't even need to think about it. The phrase came to her like magic.

"Ooooooooh," Hook sighed as he nuzzled her throat. "Clever _and_ shameless."

"Completely shameless," Emma agreed, squirming as the 'brutal fucking Pirate' slowly massaged her clit.

"I would write that very thing on this bodice, but it's good leather and I don't want to mangle it." He bit down on a patch of already marked flesh.

Emma jolted and hissed.

It was a quick bite. Over in a split second.

"Married cock toy." Hook spun her around suddenly, wrapping more of her leash around his hand. "That you shall be, love. I may write it on your skin at some point during our honeymoon."

_Cabin,_ was their tandem thought.

As expected, Hook did have to wait several hours before his slave's worked over pussy was in any condition to provide adequate amusement. He checked every hour on the hour. "It's a good thing I seldom allow you this indulgence," he said at one point, in reference to how hard she came while he was buried up to the wrist. "Or you'd end up hopelessly broken in for good, and I'd never have another decent fuck in my life!"

"I don't need the indulgence anyway," Emma replied from her position, prone on the couch and waiting patiently to be checked again, intermittently using the downtime to exercise the muscles she had to tighten in order to be of use.

"Lie." Hook spat back, glaring.

"No," she swore with devout authenticity. "I don't care if you never-"

"The way you cum when I do it begs to differ!" Hook cut her off. "I doubt even a ten thousand dollar whore could fake such enthusiasm!"

"I do love it," Emma rephrased, clenching and releasing around the medium sized exercise device inside her. "But I don't _need it."_

"Oh?"

She shook her head, tensing and releasing again. "Not like I need cock."

Hook raised a dubious eyebrow. "Still not convinced, really."

Emma's hips writhed as she worked her core around the device. "Cock may not be as wide, but a fist can't cum in me."

"I see," her Master flashed a wicked grin. "Let's see where we're at, shall we?"

Emma spread her legs and sighed as two fingers sunk inside and a thumb brushed rhythmically over her clit.

"This will do." He curled his fingers around her exercise toy and removed it, tossing the thing unceremoniously across the room.

"Uh!" Emma went slack with relief. Finally. Maybe it was the engagement, or the week away, or just how perfectly she and Hook worked together as a bizarre team, but for some reason this game had her willing and eager to push through anything all damn day if that's what it took to prove how badly she wanted her Master's cock. Cum. Ownership. _How will you make me take it?_ She wondered. _How are you going to fuck me? And where? Am I chained? Gagged? I haven't been gagged yet-_  
"Is the weather nice where you are?" Hook bellowed, pulling her off the couch by her leash. "Stay on your knees and listen up! You'll wait there ten minutes per offense if I have to repeat a single word!"

"Mmhmm!" Emma nodded, eager to receive commands.

"While you've had most of the day to lay here and do nothing, I've planned and gotten things in order."

"Thank you."

"Swan, if it goes without saying do us both a favor and don't say it. Right, job one: yesterday I actually did make reservations at the restaurant where you beat me to the proposal. You are going to call and cancel the reservation while I go down on you. You will also book another one, anytime between six and nine, preferably on the weekend, but Monday or Wednesday will work as well. Their computer system is slow as mud, but do not hang up until the new reservation is confirmed. I'll stop licking you the second the call ends, after which you will put on a trench coat and go to the car-I'll take off the leash and collar, but that's it. Pop the trunk and take an inventory of what I've selected. These will be your options. I'm using the spreader bar regardless, I want those legs wide. But I might give you a choice on whether or not to bend you over and lock your hands in as well. Haven't made up my mind there. Moving on: you will select one item of clothing, one gag, and choose three obscene phrases from the envelope provided. You will memorize these phrases and recite them while I fuck you along with whatever embellishments I demand."

He could see one lingering question swimming in her eyes.

"As for where you're to be fucked, you'll see when we arrive. Now go fetch the phone and return to the couch before you dial. You will stand, I will sit, I will lick, and whatever sweet clueless person answers your call had better not detect the slightest hint of what's going on between your legs. Do you have all that? Need I repeat anything?"

"No, Sir," Emma shook her head. "Of course not, Sir."

Hook smiled. "Stand up."

She obeyed.

"Married cock toy," he muttered. "And what shall my title be as a married submissive?"

Emma hesitated, uncertain whether or not he was asking rhetorically.

"Go on," Hook encouraged. "It should be you who chooses it."

"Hmmmm . . . " Emma gave the question studious consideration. "Wife's clit slave."

Hook lunged in and kissed her with all his might as he unfastened and removed the collar around her neck. "Til death do us play, yes?" He asked quietly when they pulled apart.

Emma drew a deep breath and tried to lock that precise moment away in her mind as she echoed the vow. "Til death do us play."


End file.
